


Gilded Sanctuary

by HappyBirddi, LadyVanitas



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: All the Routes, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst, Blood and Violence, Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending for Everyone, Kinda, M/M, Multi, My Unit | Byleth Twins, Not so much gore but blood, Or so help me, Original Character(s), Slow Burn, Spoilers For Literally the ENTIRE GAME, Tags May Change, no beta we die like Glenn, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2020-12-14 23:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 197,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyBirddi/pseuds/HappyBirddi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVanitas/pseuds/LadyVanitas
Summary: In the Imperial Year of 1159, Garreg Mach Monastery was set aflame and Jeralt Eisner abandoned it all in the ashes. And with him, the lives of his twin children. Several years later, various circumstances caused twins Byleth and Byriel to return to the place where it all started right as the land of Fódlan is on the sword’s edge of chaos and destruction. Suspicious characters pull the strings amidst the shadows and the three future rulers face off in a game of conspiracies and liars. What starts as an untrustworthy game of secrets climaxes into a bloody war to determine the ruler of all of Fódlan.However, what would have had one winner now has a chance of the three lords to find hope in the darkness. The two professors, children of time, must rely on each other to build trust between the collapsing relationships of Edelgard, Dimitri, and Claude to rise together and face the true enemy.What once was a sanctuary to all slowly peels back its gilded facade to display something truly rotten underneath…(Written by two terribly exhausted writers in an attempt to put all the routes together because the children deserve it. Updates every other Monday.)





	1. Prologue: Flames of Rebirth

꧁ ⋅ Prologue ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Flames of Rebirth ⋅ ✦

* * *

The adrenaline was pulsing through Jeralt’s veins and he hadn’t even begun yet, but it made his usually sturdy hands shake. He clenched them, willing them to stop with his resolve. He had paced back and forth in his personal quarters for the past few days, in fact, he would’ve been impressed that he hadn’t made a dent in the floor with all of his anxious wanderings if he wasn’t preoccupied with something else entirely. He stopped at his desk where the bassinet lay, oddly quiet and unmoving. Sorrow washed over him, freezing him to the core and forcefully reminding him of the events that had transpired recently. He didn’t know how much time had passed since her death, it had become a confusing blur of mourning and apologies, of prayers and condolences. It hadn't even really settled in, the reality of her death. He kept expecting her to come back at some point.

But she wouldn't. Sitri was gone, and all that was left were the two lives she gave up living for. They never cried, which was concerning for many reasons.

"They're fine," he was told. "They're two healthy infants, but the fact they don't cry is… abnormal. They'll probably grow out of it." Then, the most puzzling thing he had learned that also made him lose every bit of sleep and had made the doctor go uneasy.

"They have no heartbeat. They're healthy and have a pulse, that much is certain. But I can't find a heartbeat."

No heartbeat. And yet they both stared back at him quietly with eyes all too knowing.

The silence of the two infants wasn't what worried Jeralt the most though. No, what he feared most was how Rhea watched him now. He had been suspicious, how could she have died when by all measures she was set to recover quickly? It made no sense. He felt as if Rhea's empty eyes were following him everywhere he went, and he kept expecting her to come around every corner. It kept him from sleeping, as he feared that if he looked away for even a moment, they'd both be gone. Just like her.

Enough was enough. He knew what he had to do, and just prayed that all three of them would make it out alive.

Jerlat let out a sigh of frustration before looking back at the two. "If we get out of this," he promised. "I'll name you both and you'll never see this place again."

They didn't respond, obviously. But the way they looked at him, it was as if they knew exactly what was going to happen.

"For the four of us," Jeralt muttered, using a knife to cut off a piece of his hair and throw it into the pile.

Then there was a spark of orange, and the smell of putrid smoke filled the room.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Garreg Mach was quiet at night, almost completely silent as Seteth walked up the stairs to the second floor of the monastery. His footsteps echoed against the dull stone as he slowly ascended, tracing his fingers along the cold walls. The monastery had always been quiet, ever since he had been summoned by Rhea to be her most trusted advisor, but in the past few days, it had become more like a tomb. Quiet and somber, the rain had refused to stop falling like the goddess herself was crying over the tragic death that shook the Church of Seiros to its core. Seeing Jeralt, of all people, cry over the death of his beloved wife reminded Seteth that even the strongest humans had their weaknesses.

It had brought back devastating memories for him, as he had lost his wife as well.

The second-in-command to the Archbishop stopped at the landing to the second floor, something halting him in his tracks. Originally, he had planned to find the Archbishop and ask her what had happened to the woman and the twins. She was the only one in the infirmary right before her death. No cries that split into the night alerted the Knights of Seiros, only Rhea’s calm but heartbroken tone had informed them what had happened.

As he turned to walk toward the Archbishop’s chambers, he recoiled. A foul stench suddenly hit him in the face, making him gag and reflexively cover his nose and mouth. It was putrid, causing him to choke on the nauseating smell of burning hair and smoldering meat. Then he saw the smoke wafting from under one of the doors down the hall. The door to Jeralt’s room.

“Oh hell-!” He yelled and ran for Jeralt’s room. “JERALT!”

He pulled on the door handle, but immediately let go and let out another curse as the skin on his palms burned red. The metal was scalding hot, too dangerous to touch with bare hands. Suddenly the shrill sounds of the warning bells rang out throughout the monastery, and Seteth could hear guards shouting and people screaming. He choked on the smoke, coughing it out and covering his nose with his sleeve.

“Seteth, move!” A guard sprinted down the hall at full speed, reaching for the door handle. Thankfully, the guards were equipped with gauntlets that protected their hands, which would hopefully shield them against the heat.

But the guard pulled on the handle, and the door didn’t budge. He pulled again with as much strength as he could muster. Nothing. “It-It’s stuck!” He cried.

“What do you mean it’s stuck?!”

“There’s something holding the door shut! It won’t budge!”

Seteth turned to the door. “Jeralt! Jeralt, say something!”

Nothing but the growing roar of the flames and the smell of smoke responded to his call of desperation.

“Out of the way, let me!” From down the hall came the knight Alois, doing his best to maintain composure. Without hesitating, he pulled out his axe and swung it into the door. The wood made a _ crack _ at the force, again and again, each hit chipping the door away more and more.

“By the goddess…!”

Seteth turned to see Rhea briskly walking towards them. She was dressed in her usual robes, the white of it untainted and the dark blue cape and shawl the color of a cloudless night. Her long, seafoam colored hair was adorned with the holy headdress, the gold glinting the small amount of light that the hallway granted. The flowers in her hair were weaved in perfectly despite the dire situation. It was clear she had not yet retired to bed when the flames had started and the bells started ringing their deafening song of warnings and destruction.

Yet, despite her flawless appearance, the wide-eyed, rage-filled look she had terrified Seteth to the core. He hadn’t seen that expression of hers in a _ very _long time.

“Stay back, Archbishop!” Seteth yelled.

Alois struck the axe down, and there was a deafening _ snap _ of metal and wood. The doors swung open, pieces of what appeared to be an iron lance skidded across the floor, and the group was faced with what looked like the Eternal Flames themselves. The entire room was engulfed in fire, leaving nothing in its wake. They burned with fury, eating away at everything in the room with a gluttonous passion, all the way up to the ceiling.

The sickening smell of burning flesh caused the entire group to recoil in disgust. Most of the guards visibly gagged and choked. And there, in the center of the room, was a figure lying in a heap on the floor.

“JERALT!” Alois tried to rush into the room.

Seteth put his arm in front of Alois. “Don’t get yourself killed!”

"But-!"

"We can't do anything for him now!"

“The children-!” Rhea shrieked, her fingers clawed towards it in hysteria. “Seteth, the bassinet!”

Through the flames, he could make out the shape of the desk, and the burning cradle sitting on top of it. The flames were slowly devouring at the wood around it, surrounding it in a hellish light. Seteth hesitated for almost a moment, he could be killed by the flames. But he then furrowed his brow in resolve, knowing Jeralt would do the same for his child if she was in that situation. He made a quick prayer to the goddess and jumped into the room as swiftly as he could.

“Seteth, don’t!” A guard cried.

Rhea turned on them. “Bring as much water as you can grab! Go now!” She ordered.

Seteth’s eyes burned as it was assaulted with smoke. He wheezed violently as he blindly made his way to the desk. But then the scent hit him again, that disgusting odor of death and embers.

Right as he reached for the cradle, there was a _ crack _. 

“MOVE!”

Before he could even process where the sound came from, he felt Alois grab at the back of his shirt and yanked him backward. Before he could yell out in surprise, a large beam used to hold the ceiling up came crashing down, collapsing under its weakened state and completely crushing what remained of the desk and cradle with a thundering _ boom _.

Seteth screamed, “NO!”

Rhea let out a wail of absolute horror.

“We need to get out of here!” Alois rasped, pulling Seteth out of the room and coughing violently. “Let’s move!”

The three of them had no choice but to run as guards and other servants moved to carry buckets and pitchers of water. Anything that could hold liquid was used as people desperately tried to put out the flames.

The entire monastery was in absolute chaos as Seteth ran through it. People were screaming, shouting to retrieve water, animals were howling and shrieking at the commotion. He looked back only once, and to his horror, he saw that smoke was billowing out of the windows and seemingly reaching the heavens.

The moment they reached the courtyard, Rhea fell to her knees, unable to move. She was shaking violently.

“Archbishop!” Alois cried. “Are you alright?!” He looked back at the tower, eyes wide with panic as he looked to both Rhea and Seteth, “Stay right here, I need to get everyone out!” Alois ran back into the chaos, shoving past anyone who got in his way like a man obsessed.

Seteth panting, gasping for air, but then bolted up and looked around in a panic, “Where’s Flayn?!”

He stood up, scanning the chaos and screaming her name. People were shoving past one another, all a blur of various sizes and colors that made his head spin. But out of all of them, he saw a flash of emerald green hair frantically weaving through the crowd looking for a certain someone amidst the melting insanity that was starting to make Seteth’s head hurt, a mix of loud noises, sensory overload, and smoke inhalation had made him feel lightheaded.

“Father!”

He had opened his arms as she came into contact with him, hugging her tightly as he dizzily fell to his knees.

“Are you alright?! Your hands-!”

He hadn’t even noticed that both of his hands were seared red, aching and numb.

“They’re dead… they’re all dead,” He barely managed to mumble, “But… I’m so glad you’re alright, Flayn.”

“They’re both dead. We couldn’t save the twins-!” Rhea echoed, seemingly forgetting Jeralt entirely for the moment. She covered her mouth and screamed into her hands a horrible sob, “I failed you-!”

“Archbishop, are you also hurt..?” Flayn held her father close, slowly beginning to heal him with magic.

Rhea looked to Seteth, ignoring Flayn completely, “... Who did this?”

He froze, his chest tightening, “What are you talking about?”

Rhea’s eyes glowed in the light of the fire as she slowly lowered her hands, “This… this was no accident. This was murder! Who did this?!”

“I don’t know!” Seteth grimaced, “But we will find them, Rhea. We cannot allow whoever did this to get away with this.”

Rhea rose to her feet, staring down at him with eyes that burned like two raging green flames. “Whoever did this has defiled this holy monastery and has dishonored the goddess. I will never forget this crime they have committed against the Church of Seiros, even after they burn in the eternal flames and break their bones as they bow to give futile prayers for the goddess to grant them forgiveness.”

A sickening chill went through Seteth as she spoke those hateful words. It was truly terrifying to see a saint ready to spill the blood of those she deemed unworthy of the life given to them by the goddess.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

In the ensuing chaos of the fire, no one took notice when one of the carts left the stables of the monastery. No one noticed one of the horses being pulled away, and no one stopped it as it drove off. The bigger concern was, of course, on preserving the monastery and getting out as many survivors as humanly possible without risking the knights’ lives as well.

The cart drove for the better half of an hour, and only did it stop when Garreg Mach was little more than a small figure on the horizon. Even from this distance, Jeralt could see the smoke rising to touch the skies. He came to a stop, and only then did he let out a sigh of relief. The plan had worked. He only hoped that by the time anyone had pieced together that the body Jeralt had left was not his, he hoped to be far enough away that it didn’t matter.

Carefully, Jeralt pulled up a basket that was used for carrying armor and undid the latch. Safely inside, sleeping soundly and completely oblivious of the entire journey, were his children.

“To be honest, I’m not too surprised you two slept through that whole ordeal.” He let out a relieved sigh. “But I should be grateful. If you started crying, we could’ve all been dead.” One of them opened its eyes to look at the world while the other slept peacefully.

“We made it,” Jeralt reached a hand to the infant, gently touching the side of its face. “We’re safe now.”

The infant waved its tiny hand, grasping at Jeralt’s finger. In that moment, he felt as if his heart just died in his chest. He wished that Sitri was here, as he had no idea as to what he was supposed to do now.

“Guess we’ll figure it out,” Jeralt muttered. “But first things first, I have a promise to keep. You two need names…”

He had put off naming them for a few days now, as he didn’t want to get attached if they all died. She had a few names picked out, and he went through each one they had debated over.

“You’re Byleth,” He looked to the sleeping one. “It’s what she wanted to name you if you were a girl. But because there’s two of you now…” He thought again and looked at the other one. “As for you… I had a different name in mind if you were a boy. Your name will be… Byriel.” 

He nodded. “Byleth and Byriel Eisner. Sounds good to me.”

The one infant that was awake made a babbling sound.

“Glad we agree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: And thus ends the introduction! We hope you enjoyed reading this and that it piques your interest in continuing our story. This is gonna be a long journey, but hopefully, you’ll stick around as we desperately try to piece four story routes into one coherent narrative.
> 
> EldritchGremlin: I wanted more Seteth in the story, dammit, so I put in more Seteth.
> 
> HappyBirddi: Yeah, hope you guys like Seteth. He’s gonna show up quite a bit. Cause hey, we’re writing this and we like the green man.
> 
> EldritchGremlin: We also have some super cool things for him planned, that may or may involve… dragons >:^)
> 
> HappyBirddi: My eyes are on fire from all the hours we spent staring at timelines and lore ;_; wish us luck everyone, we’re in it for the long haul
> 
> EldritchGremlin: Yes please we need all the support and matcha lattes as we can get our gremlin/bird hands on


	2. Chapter 1: Byleth and Byriel

꧁ ⋅ Chapter One ⋅ ꧂ 

✦ ⋅ Byleth and Byriel ⋅ ✦

* * *

That late afternoon was no different than any other time they had traveled, the Great Tree moon would likely be rising the more day turned to night, and the weather was actually very pleasant and warm. Unfortunately, none of the three were feeling extremely talkative or chipper. Not unusual for them, but today it was especially obvious; they had been up since before the sun rose and had not stopped. The destination was Remire village, a small settlement that sat comfortably in the Adrestian Empire. Half a day's journey really, but their travels were delayed greatly by cart trouble and Jeralt getting somewhat lost. Despite both Byleth and Byriel reading the map.

Traveling for half a day with very little food and time to rest, the three were not in the best of moods and were anxious to just stop.

"How much further do you think it is?" His daughter Byleth more or less mumbled the question. She sat next to her father on the cart, keeping to herself and occasionally cleaning the iron sword they picked up before leaving.

"Can't be too much further." Jeralt scanned the road ahead.

"That's what people say when they get lost," Byriel responded from the back of the cart, not even missing a beat.

Byleth frowned a bit, not taking her eyes off the sword. "Maybe if you helped read the map, we wouldn't have gotten lost in the first place."

"Maybe if you actually wore your glasses, we'd know what the map said."

Byleth's expression didn't change as she said, "Like you can see any better. " Suddenly there was a sharp pain from behind her left ear followed by a _ fwack. _ She turned to see her brother exactly where he was, sitting with his back against the cart, acting innocent as he turned the pages in an old and worn, but still well cared for, leather book.

Without saying anything, Byleth returned the pain by pressing the back of her middle finger against her thumb, leveled her aim right under his ear, and flicked hard.

He recoiled immediately, let out a short “ow” and turned on her, narrowing his eyes at her. "Mighty brave thing to do to the guy who heals your wounds. I'll remember that the next time you go fight with a thief."

"Good. I'll do the same the next time a man with a big scary axe comes for you. We'll see how effective your fire is against a sword to the guts."

"Everything is flammable if you use your imagination. Remember that, Ms. Let-me-fight-the-entire-army-with-just-my-stupid-broken-sword. You’ll be wishing you had my healing spells and Fire then."

Jeralt sighed, looking at the two with a raised eyebrow, “Do I need to pull over and make you two walk?”

“He started it technically,” Byleth muttered, clearly scorned.

“Yeah you should definitely make her walk,” Byriel laid back on his seat, “Might teach her a thing or two about listening to the person who heals her when she gets her ass handed to her on the battlefield.”

“If I recall correctly,” Jeralt didn’t look at his son as he spoke, “you yourself nearly got seriously injured the other night picking a fight with that thief.”

His mouth twitched, “I had it under control. I just missed.”

Byleth snickered a little under her breath. “One hell of a miss. You lit the field on fire.”

Jeralt looked over to Byleth. “As for you,” her face fell a little at the tone of his voice, “You ran into a fight without making sure your sword was in good condition. You could’ve been in serious trouble if your brother hadn’t noticed and missed. It made a nice distraction.” 

Byleth crossed her arms a little and muttered, “I had it under control though…” 

He sighed. “Good grief, both of you. Can’t you both go a day without bothering each other?”

They were both quiet. Despite the little bickering and disputes the two had, admittedly it put Jeralt at ease. When they were around most people, they barely showed emotion and reacted to situations in concerningly calm manners. But around him, they truly showed how human they were. They acted like any normal pair of siblings did, bickering but ultimately ready to do anything for each other.

Byleth looked to the passing forest. “Are you sure we’re on the right path this time?”

“Geez, I get lost once and I never hear the end of it,” Jeralt shook his head. “Byriel, I gave you the map. What do you think?”

Byriel raised it up to his face, squinted, and then outstretched his arms to try and get a better look at it.

“Glasses,” Byleth reminded him, running a worn rag carefully over her sword’s edge.

“Yeah yeah,” He slipped out his pair and quickly put them on, blinking and then looking back at the piece of parchment, “It says we’re getting close.”

“Maps don’t talk,” Jeralt threw back, “What are the directions?”

“It says if we keep going on this road we’ll find Remire village eventually.”

Both Byleth and Jeralt sighed simultaneously.

“What if you just sit up front?” Byleth suggested. “Or maybe give me the map?”

Byriel did as such, lightly hitting Byleth’s arm with the said parchment.

“Don’t spill anything on it again.”

“That was your fault, genius.” Byleth took the map, pulled out her own pair of glasses and squinting at the parchment. Byriel, on the other hand, took his off and tucked them neatly into his bag, “There should be a fork in the road soon, and we need to take a left.”

Jeralt scanned the road ahead, and lo and behold there was the aforementioned fork in the road. “Are you sure it says take a left this time?”

“Positive,” She nodded, confident in her answer as she put her glasses away as well. “Why is it so hard to say go left?”

Byriel shifted in the cart, looking at the road ahead. “At this point, I don’t care where we turn. I just want to get out of this cart.”

Their father directed the horse to take a left turn, “You’ll be out of it soon enough, we’ll be able to find an inn and sleep in an actual bed.

“A night where I don’t have to deal with you hogging the covers?” Byleth glanced at her brother. “Sounds like heaven.”

“A night where we don’t have to share a bed is the night hell freezes over.”

“Your brother is right,” Jeralt looked at her with a slight smile, “I’m not paying for three beds.”

She rolled her eyes a bit. “As long as he sleeps with you, I’m good with whatever they have.”

“I’m so hurt,” he whined sarcastically and poked at his sister’s back. “Fine, no girls allowed.”

She swatted at his hand, “How old are you? Five?”

“Don’t know! I could be. Dad, you want to answer that?”

Jeralt shrugged and didn’t respond as the road began to shift into thicker woods. The road also became noticeably more rough, tossing weapons, food and other supplies, and a very annoyed Byriel around in the cart. It didn’t take long for him to get sick of it and he pulled himself onto the empty space on Jeralt’s other side before his lunch from earlier in the day reappeared all over their supplies.

The trees became noticeably more cluttered together. The branches tangling together, creating an overhead cage that let streams of sunlight escape onto the dirt road ahead of them. The flowers were beginning to bloom in vibrant colors and the leaves were becoming a brilliant emerald green, the scene unfolding before them more akin to a painting of bright hues of spring than real life. Despite the cluttered, intertwining trees, one could still see the azure sky above that started to shift into soft oranges and pinks as the sun began to lower and the moon began to ascend. 

Byleth gestured to a rather tall tree. “Look Byriel, it’s your real brother,” referring to her brother’s ridiculous height over. Though he was average height at best, she was just annoyed she was the shortest in their small group now.

He pointed to a passing squirrel. “Look, it’s your real twin. You’re practically identical.”

Jeralt pointed to two large rocks on the side of the road. “I think those best describe you two.”

The two looked their dad, defeated. Jeralt smirked a little, proud he had won this battle.

Before the banter could continue, the horses pulling the cart suddenly came to a stop and started making aggressive snorts at the road ahead. Jeralt flicked the reins a bit, urging the horses to keep going, but they were glued to the spot. Refusing to move, anxiously breathing and looking around. Byriel could feel the air, something wasn’t right and it numbed him.

Byleth looked to her father and brother, her face neutral once again. “Why is it so quiet?”

They listened; the sounds commonly associated with the forest had disappeared. There was only the slight sound of wind rustling through the leaves overhead. The sound of animals, even small ones, was absent, leaving the trio of mercenaries in a disturbing, unnatural silence. It was Jeralt who was the first one to hop off of the cart, grabbing his iron lance and readying it, holding it at his side as he slowly examined the area.

“Stay put,” He breathed, barely turning his head to look at them.

Byriel looked further down the road, and noticed what appeared to be a cart some odd thirty-feet ahead. It seemingly had been run off the side of the road and it didn’t take Byriel long to see the unmoving corpses surrounding it, their weapons limp in their hands and their crimson blood splattered grotesquely across the wood of the cart, still fresh and dripping onto the green grass, staining it red.

Any normal person would scream or cry out, at least gasp in shock. Not Byriel or Byleth, who had noticed the dead bodies at the same time. Instinctively, they took up their swords and hopped off of the cart despite their father’s order. He didn’t lecture them, however, as they had fought side by side before multiple times. He knew they were capable of taking care of themselves, especially in dangerous situations such as this one. The three approached the cart carefully, eyes scanning the dense tree line around them and ears perked and waiting for any sudden noises.

Then there was soft snap of a twig from right beside Jeralt. A normal person would’ve missed it. Not Jeralt.

Immediately the older mercenary swung his lance with practiced ease and deadly accuracy, slashing the bandit across the chest as he turned around to face him. The bandit yelled out in pain, skidding backwards and then bolting at him to attack. Despite his age, he dodged swiftly, the dagger coming a mere centimeter from his arm.

Two more bandits came charging out of the bushes, weapons drawn and ready to kill. Byriel raised his hands and positioned them, light weaving a spell in front of him. With ease he cast Fire, the ball of flames hurtling towards the bandit at breakneck speed. He couldn’t react in time and cried out, the smell of burnt cloth and flesh staining the air. Taking advantage of the surprised criminal, Byriel quickly cast another one that sent the bandit on his back. The sparks lit his clothing ablaze even more, his flesh burning and bubbling as the armor on him boiled him alive from the inferno.

“Should I have held back?” Byriel asked, blinking unsurprised as he watched what he had done.

“I don’t think you could’ve burned him alive any better than that,” his sister retorted, focusing on the enemy in front of her.

Byleth drew her own sword, and moving with precision and grace she matched the remaining bandit’s weapon with her own sword. The bandit tried to swing at her, but she moved like water around him. There was a loud _ clang _of metal, and the force was enough to knock the dagger from the attacker’s hand, which fell blade first into the dirt. Then, before Byriel even had enough time to blink, Byleth slashed the sword right across the bandit’s chest in an upward motion. The bandit wailed out in agony as he fell to the ground, blood staining the earth and her sword. He didn’t get up again.

“That was a little too easy.” She looked back to her brother.

Immediately, Byriel’s eyes fell on the small trail of red on his sister’s arm. He narrowed his eyes and quickly walked over, gently grabbing her wrist and examining the crimson on her. He looked up at her, brows furrowed.

“This better not be your blood.”

She looked at the spot with surprise and wiped at it with her other hand; it wiped off cleanly and there was no trace of any more bleeding.

“Not my blood.” She gave her brother a look. “Don’t worry about me so much, Byriel.”

“I have to,” her brother sighed, but cracked a rare smile across his face, “You won’t, after all.”

Byleth smiled back. There was no doubt they were twins, they shared the same midnight-blue hair and cerulean eyes. His features were sharper, the line of his jaw more prominent and his cheekbones high. He was handsome, sharing a few features with their father than one would notice at first glance. Unlike her, he got colder far easier, so he wore long sleeves and trousers, his armor secured to his forearms and his coat made of a thicker material.

Byleth’s features were softer, the slope of her cheeks and her neck gentle in contrast to her brother’s sharper features. But her pretty face was a good distraction from her toned physique, her exposed biceps showing how strong she physically was. She, unlike her brother, always seemed to be far too warm, which led her to wear short sleeves and shorts, underneath thin lace tights.

They weren’t identical, but they were twins nonetheless. Coming into this world together and fighting in it side by side.

“We should help dad,” Byleth turned to look back at Jeralt. Right as his iron lance slashed across the torso of his unfortunate attacker.

“I think dad will be fine.” Byriel drew their attention to the cart, where two more bandits jumped from the trees and began to rush them.

They drew apart, Byleth lifting up her sword and Byriel drawing out his own blade. The two lunged for the bandits, the sounds of metal hitting metal filling the air as the two advanced on their enemies.

Byriel struck the first one in the ribs, but not before feeling a sharp, but brief sting over his upper bicep. Byleth, on the other hand, managed to duck under the bandit’s blade and retaliated. But not before her opponent got a lucky swing in and struck her right across the left shoulder. She let out a grunt, more out of anger than pain, and quickly shifted her position. There was a mysterious, but at the same time familiar flash of flash, and Byleth dug the blade right into the attacker’s chest. They let out a pained gasp before Byleth drew the sword out and the bandit fell to the ground and the light went away.

Jeralt finally finished off his own attacker with a fell swoop to the bandit’s throat, causing them to fall and choke. The three waited for a moment, but no other attackers came from the woods. They listened for any odd sounds, but heard nothing.

“I think that’s all of them.” Jeralt looked to Byriel. “Help your sister.”

Byriel nodded and briskly walked over to her, starting to cast a simple healing spell on her. She allowed him to, letting the relief of being healed wash over her along with the slight itch afterwards. She pulled away and rolled her shoulders, feeling as good as new, thanks to her magically inclined brother.

“You’re getting seriously good at that.” She pointed to the scratch on his upper arm. “What about that?”

In response, Byriel reached into his bag and pulled out a tiny vial with a stopper in it. He bit off the cap and chugged the drink down. It tasted like cold tea left to steep for too long, making him cringe at the bitter taste. But as he drank it, he could already see the medicine start its work as the bleeding came to a stop.

“That works fast,” Byleth commented.

“You should try it sometime.”

Jeralt walked past the two. “Let’s see if there are any other survivors.”

The two followed their father to the cart; the bodies of three men wearing armor and two horses lay strewn across the road. Their bodies, and the wheels of the cart, were laced with several crudely-made arrows, and when Jeralt laid a hand against the neck of one of the dead men, the corpse still felt warm to the touch. Items such as weapons, potions, bags of gold coins were scattered all across the dirt road and in the bushes.

Byleth suddenly got a sinking feeling in her stomach. “We didn’t see an archer-”

Right as she said that, there was a _ twang _ that pierced the air from the trees. Byriel quickly turned around and launched Fire directly at the source of the sound as Byleth ducked and rolled out of the way as another crude arrow sunk into the ground where she once stood.

There was a sharp cry as the Fire made contact, and from high in the trees there were a series of branches breaking before there was a loud _ thud _ as the body of the last bandit hit the ground. Dead before he even landed.

“Damn coward,” Jeralt shook his head. “Nice aim there, Byriel. You didn’t light the forest on fire this time.”

Byriel clapped his hands together, brushing off the dust.

Byleth rose to her feet, dusting herself off. “What now?”

“We look for anything useful and we move on.”

The three approached the carts and bodies, carefully picking through the supplies to find anything useful. It was something they weren’t proud of, looting the dead like this, but it was a necessary action. If they didn’t, likely someone else would’ve. Better they grab what was useful first, things like spare gold coins, medical supplies, armor, and weapons.

Byleth immediately found an iron sword that, while slightly covered in rust, was still in good enough condition to use later. Byriel found a few healing potions that he safely tucked away into his bag. Jeralt, on the other hand, decided to crack open one of the crates that had fallen off the cart and rolled into the bushes and see what was inside. He was surprised to find that the contents were high-quality weapons, enough food to last three weeks, and various other goods that were far too expensive to be in the hands of what was perceived to be average travelers.

Byleth and Byriel looked over the find with wide-eyed looks of amazement. They had never come across anything like this before. Which is why it shocked both of them when Jeralt slammed the lid shut, turned to his son, and ordered “Burn it.”

Byriel’s jaw fell slack. “Are you serious? This is a lot of good stuff, why burn it?”

“We can put it to use, can’t we?” Byleth threw in.

Jeralt shook his head dismissively, “We can’t use any of this stuff. If we’re caught on the road with it, we could get into more trouble than it’s worth keeping it all.”

“So it’s fancy noble stuff?” Byriel looked at the other crates scattered around the site.

“Pretty much. And we could get arrested for theft if we’re caught with it. Best just to burn it.”

The twins gave each other a look; it sounded like a lie, but they really had no reason to question their father.

Byriel shrugged, trying not to dwell on his thoughts of doubt too much, “Alright, let’s burn it.”

The three gathered the supplies together into a neat pile by the cart, and Byriel used Fire on the mound. They caught fire rather quickly and within seconds the entire cart was ablaze. Jeralt had a distant look on his face as the cart burned, one that the twins did not see as they took what little money and useable weapons they could find off the dead bodies. What the twins also didn’t see, but Jeralt was all too familiar with, was the crest of the Church of Seiros branded on one of the crates that was being slowly eaten away by the flames.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

The three resumed normal conversation all the way to Remire Village, though the mood was a little stiff as they met up with Jeralt’s remaining band of mercenaries, ate a short dinner of stew and fish provided by the inn they were staying at, and slowly settled in for bed. The moment Byleth and Byriel were in the company of the rest of the mercenaries, they immediately retreated back to being more neutral and impassive, mostly sticking to each other’s sides and whispering their words as the mercenaries laughed, talked and ate the night away.

Byleth was the first one to settle in for bed, never being much of a night owl or sociable type, and her brother wasn’t far behind. Though he stayed awake a little bit longer reading before he finally felt sleep catch up to him at a much later hour. When Jeralt and Byleth were already fast asleep. And, despite the bickering from earlier, Byleth and Byriel ended up sharing the same bed and slept with their backs facing each other. Sometime after they had both fallen into a deeper sleep, a dream began to manifest before their eyes. A rather familiar dream at that.

War.

Two armies clashing their blades in brutal and bloody combat. Magic shot across the fields like shooting stars, pegasus riders road through the sky and soldiers decked in armor clashed swords and fell to their deaths on both sides. Amidst all this chaos, two figures always stood out; a grizzled, war-scarred man that wielded a sword that cracked and connected like a spine, turning into a whip and slamming down its enemies with ease, and a woman with soft seafoam colored hair, decked in gold and ivory armor and wielding a sword that gleamed silver in the rising sunlight.

The two clashed blades, less like people and more like two angry gods that had chosen the earth as their battlefield.

In the end, the woman with seafoam colored hair won. She always won, and she asked the same question that she had asked for the past several dreams. The same question that haunted the two in the edges of their subconscious

** _“Do you remember the Red Canyon?”_ **

The dream ended with the woman in armor killing the man with such brutality and hatred that even after having this dream for so long, it still scared both Byleth and Byriel. They didn’t fear much, but they feared the woman with the burning green eyes.

Then the war disappeared, and the two were faced with an old throne made entirely of sturdy grey stone in a dark, tomb-like place. Resting upon the throne was a girl, but her age was impossible to guess, she had a timeless aura to her. Her hair was long and green, like the rolling hills.She was dressed in a deep violet, metal jewelry adorning every aspect of her outfit that dangled slightly as she breathed in and out as she slept. Her pointed ears were noticeable and large, a clear indicator that she wasn’t human.

She sat up and yawned, opening her big green eyes. She blinked and then squinted at the two, furrowing her brows, “Oh my. What could’ve brought you two here?”

They were surprised, as this was the first time the girl was conscious. Let alone, spoke to them. 

She yawned loudly. “I wonder how you two got in here… It is most rude to interrupt a moment of repose.” She narrowed her eyes at the two and glared, letting out an annoyed _ hmph _. “Very rude indeed.”

The two were speechless.

She extended her wrist and motioned for the two to step forward closer. “Now come to me. I wish to have a look at you two.”

Byriel and Byleth gave each other a questioning look. Then they shrugged, and then walked forward. They had shared this dream many times, and through whatever means of magic or will of the goddess, they could interact with each other and understand what the other was saying. Byriel and Byleth did also joke that this was truly proof that, because they were twins, they absolutely had to share everything. Not even their dreams were exclusive.

“Hmm… I have not seen the likes of you before. Who are you, anyway?” The girl asked.

Byriel blinked, “I’m a demon.”

The girl narrowed her eyes and glowered. “Do not deceive. You would do well to keep your wit in line.” She looked to Byleth. “You there, answer.”

Byleth was silent for a moment. “I’m a ghost.”

The girl’s glare intensified, very obviously unamused with their responses.

Byriel snickered and Byleth had a smirk on her face at the look on the girl’s face. Even in the most strangest and dire of situations they both managed to make each other crack a smile.

“We’re human,” Byriel responded after getting a good laugh. “I mean, others might disagree, but I’m pretty sure we’re both human. At least I am, she might be a squirrel.”

Byleth shook her head and sighed. “We’re both human.”

“I see.” The girl’s scowl vanished from her face. But only for a second. “Then you must have names of sorts. Go on.”

“Byriel Einser.”

“Byleth Einser.”

“Huh. I shall not ever grow accustomed to the sound of human names.” She smiled a little. “You both must possess a day of birth as well. Beneath which moon and on what day were you born into this world?”

“The twentieth day of the Horsebow Moon,” Byriel shrugged. “Don’t ask us who’s older though.”

The girl shook her head, amazed. “Well, wonders never cease! It seems we share our day of birth. How strange!”

“_ That’s _ the strange part?!” Byleth wheezed.

The girl rested her arm against the stone throne, leaned into her palm frowning, eyes slowly drifting shut. “Hmm. It all feels so… familiar. I think it may be time for yet another nap…”

“But what _ are _ you?” Byriel questioned. “We see you all the time, but we don’t know what you are.”

“It is almost… time to… begin…” She mumbled, falling back asleep.

Byriel and Byleth shared one last questioning look before the room became dark once again.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

There were two things that Claude was concerned with; his aim, and his beard. Being that he was lacking on both. He ran his hand under his chin, annoyed that it still felt smooth and that his attempts of actually accomplishing a beard were so far unsuccessful. At least his aim was decent, but randomly shooting arrows at the trees wasn’t exactly great target practice and not exactly the most entertaining.

He sat with his back against a tree, staring at the slowly dying fire in front of him, feeling bored and exhausted from the trip. He was on one of the many training missions for the Officer’s Academy, stuck rooming with the two worst travel companions on this side of Fódlan. Maybe not _ the _worst, but it was not ideal having to deal with Dimitri’s awkward small talk and Edelgard’s grumpy remarks for a week. The awkward tension between the three was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife, and Claude was tempted to just walk the whole way home if this kept up.

He fired another arrow into the trees, going through the motions without really thinking. He heard a _ thunk _ as it found its mark in the tree he had been firing at and then sighed. “I’m bored.”

“We’re keeping watch,” Edelgard replied. She sat on the other side of the fire, watching the trees with a blank expression. “It’s not meant to be entertaining.”

“Then you two take over and let me sleep.”

“We have to stay awake, Claude.” Dimitri spoke up politely. He sat with his weapon in hand, closely observing the trees like he expected to see someone come crashing through them at any second. “It’ll be easier to look out for anything if all three of us were awake.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “If you two want to stay up watching out for raccoons and squirrels all night, be my guest. I’m gonna get some sleep.”

Edelgard gave him a disapproving look. “We can’t risk any chance of an attack, Claude.”

“Who’s going to attack us out here other than squirrels? We’re in the middle of nowhere and the mission is secret.” He let out a loud yawn. “No one knows we’re even out here.”

“Well, yes…” Dimitri furrowed his brow. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean we’re safe from an attack.”

“You two are way too high-strung sometimes.”

Dimitri frowned at him, make a bit of a face, “You can never be sure that we won’t be ambushed, Claude.”

“Look, I trust you two are capable of fending off any bloodthirsty garbage bears without me.”

Dimitri’s expression shifted to confusion.

“Raccoons are garbage bears, Dimitri. It was a joke.”

“Oh, I see. ” He gave an awkward little laugh.

Claude groaned in annoyance and frustration. _ Is this what the Eternal Flames are really like? _

Edelgard stood up and stretched out her arms. “I’m going on a brief patrol of the camp.” Said camp was small enough that they didn’t really need a patrol of it. Likely, she just needed an excuse to get away from her two companions. They had stopped for the night on the outskirts of a very small farming village. Village being a very generous term for the collection of houses, as only about a hundred or so people probably lived there. The officers had set up their base on the outskirts of the town as to not disturb the quiet peace.

“Do you want us to go with you?” Dimitri asked.

“No, I can handle it fine, thank you.”

“Alrighty then,” Claude yawned once again. “Goodnight.”

She frowned at him. “You’re leaving yourself wide open for someone to sneak up and kill you, Claude.”

“What, are you planning on murdering me in my sleep or something?” She glowered at him, and Claude laughed. “Geez learn to loosen up a bit, why don’t you?”

“That wasn’t funny,” she was still glaring at him as she walked away.

“Nothing is ever funny with you two.” Claude slightly whined. “I’ve met wooden planks more flexible than you two.”

Dimitri looked a little saddened at the response. “S-Sorry…”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that look.” The two were silent, the mood once again dead on arrival. Claude stood up, stretched out his legs and walked over to the tree with at least five of his arrows sticking out of it and three more on the surrounding ground. He gathered them up quickly and said, “Well, if you’re going to stay up nature watching, I’m catching up on sleep.”

Dimitri sighed, defeated. “Very well… but don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

“I’m actually doing the smart thing, I’m saving my energy for a real attack.” He waved his hand lazily and walked off. “Have fun.”

He heard Dimitri sigh in annoyance as he walked further into the tree line. Part of Claude felt a little bad for leaving the prince behind, but he was way too tired to dwell on the fact. Let alone, attempt small talk again.

Claude picked out a tree nestled not too far away from camp and leaned his back against it. It was a lot colder being further from the fire pit, but nothing could be as cold as the shoulder Edelgard was giving him right now. He leaned against the tree, held his bow at a position ready in case he needed to fire another arrow, and got comfortable. He was used to sleeping outside without much shelter, he was raised to be adaptive afterall. Claude had also slept in much worse conditions than this, so it only took him a minute before he settled against the sturdy oak he had picked, and he let his eyelids drift shut and tried to relax his body to grab what little sleep he could before the dawn broke.

Sadly though, even with his eyes shut, Claude couldn’t seem to fall asleep. He was already trained to sleep lightly, so even the slightest snap of a twig or bird flying through the trees kept him from resting entirely. But tonight? It was especially bad. He wished, more than anything, that they did the obvious thing and traveled through the night so he could sooner be in a real bed. Why they decided to stop in such a remote area was somewhat suspicious and more trouble than it was worth.

As Claude began to teeter closer to the realm of unconsciousness, he a bush rustle. Immediately, his eyes flew open and he turned to the source only to see a small squirrel quickly dart up a tree. He threw a small rock at the tree, causing the squirrel to run off.

He sighed in exasperation and tried closing his eyes again. But right before he could get comfortable again, he heard the _ crunch _ of a branch. Not like a tree branch falling naturally, the sound of it being physically broken. Claude froze, feeling his heart physically skip a beat as he quietly sat up and scanned the surrounding woods.

He truly hoped that it was a raccoon and not a thief, not because he was afraid of an attack, but because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself with both Edelgard and Dimitri telling him “we told you so”.

Then he heard another branch break, and Claude moved behind and practically under a bush, growing as still as a statue. And from his hiding spot low to the forest floor, he saw the dark outline of two sets of feet slowly creeping their way through the dense trees. They suddenly stopped, merely five feet from his hiding spot, and picked up one of Claude’s arrows that he had left behind. Then they began to look around bushes, their blades visible to him and glinting slightly from the dying firelight and the moon’s rays. Claude regretted wearing bright yellow now more than ever since it would be easier to see in the dark. He held his breath and covered his mouth, praying to the goddess that they wouldn’t hear him.

It felt like hours, but was only likely a minute, before the bandits moved on. They crouched into the bushes, slowly advancing on the fire circle and one hopefully alert enough Dimitri. The second they were out of Claude’s sight, he knew it was time to act.

He crawled on his hands and knees as quietly and slowly as he could, making his way through the brush. He felt a few thorns poke at his arms and legs, and he was certain he’d need to wash this outfit when he returned home, but he would much rather clean out mud stains than blood. When he moved to what he estimated to be the opposite of where the bandits had gone, he cautiously looked for their silhouettes in the dark. He squinted, scanning the woods with a sort of desperation as he placed an arrow between his fingers and bow string.

From his angle, he could see that Dimitri was still observing the trees on the opposite side of the fire. But it was unlikely he had heard anything to put him on alert given that he had his back to the threats. How could he anyway? He wasn’t raised to look out for subtle sounds like Claude was. Then, barely standing against the darkness, Claude could see the first bandit merely three feet away from being revealed by the fire light.

Claude did not hesitate. He pulled his arm back, aiming the point of the arrow right where he knew their leg was. He didn’t want to kill if he could avoid it, but he also didn’t want to explain how the future king got a sword through the back on their seemingly normal trip.

He took a steadying breath, waiting for just the right moment as the bandit began to become more and more visible. Right as the first rays of fire light hit them, Claude let go.

The arrow sailed across the way so quickly Claude himself almost missed it entirely. But then there was a cry of pain that caused Dimitri to jump to his feet, spin around, and finished the bandit off with a deadly jab of his lance. The second bandit retreated, running deeper into the woods and out of sight. His now dead companion slumped over and fell right into the circle of the dying flame’s reach, the fire light making his blood look more black than crimson.

“By the goddess, an ambush already?!” Dimitri glowered as Claude ran from the trees and to his side.

“If you say ‘I told you so’ I’m walking away.” Claude warned.

Dimitri, a look of anger and panic on his face, turned on Claude. “Where’s El- I mean, Edelgard?!”

Claude looked back in the direction of the soldiers who had come with them just in time to see a burst of fire shoot across the night sky and ignite a building from the village with a deafening explosion that nearly threw the two of them backwards.

Dimitri, seemingly having no sense of self-preservation, picked up his lance and charged towards the source of the explosion. “Come on!”

“Are you mad?!” Claude, not wanting to be held responsible if Dimitri suddenly caught a bad case of death, ran after the prince. As the two began to move forward, one of the knights they had been traveling with intercepted them.

“Y-Your Highness, your grace-!”

“It’s Claude,” the man in question corrected.

“We need to leave this place!”

Dimitri scowled. “We can’t abandon the village!”

“There’s too many attackers! We’re greatly outnumbered!”

Then Dimitri, stepping into the role of future king, raised his voice. “Then send someone, anyone out to find reinforcements! We are _ not _ abandoning these people! Do you understand?!”

The knight flinched at the sudden rise of the usually polite and sincere prince, but he nodded. Even Claude took a step back at the sound.

“I-I’ll find someone!” And without any further arguing, the knight ran.

Dimitri looked to Claude. “We need to find Edelgard, now!”

Claude didn’t want to argue with him, so he just shrugged. “Well we certainly won’t find her by standing here.”

The two, without any further arguing, ran into the fray.

Bandits ran amidst the chaos, chasing down both soldiers and civilians alike. Thankfully it seemed like the majority of them had escaped with the aid of the knights, but bandits still ran through the burning rubble, swinging their blades at anyone who was unfortunate to come close.

Claude fired arrows where he needed, his aim was hardly flawless but he was glad that he was able to hit anyone at all. Dimitri, on the other hand, was having no trouble dispatching enemies with only a few swings of his lance. It was a terrifying sight to behold, but one Claude didn’t linger on.

Then, through the chaos, Claude caught the briefest flash of red out of the corner of his eye. “Edelgard!” He called.

Dimitri immediately spun in the direction that Claude was looking, and saw Edelgard quickly swing her axe in an arc, barely missing the bandit.

Right before the bandit could take a swing at her, Claude withdrew another arrow and fired it right into the attacker’s throat. As the bandit stumbled backwards, Dimitri rushed him and finished the job with a swift jab to the stomach.

Edelgard stared at the two of them, eyes wide with shock.

“Are you alright?!” Dimitri grabbed her by the shoulders and practically shook her with his ungodly strength.

“I’m fine, will you stop that?!” She pulled away from him, which in itself was an amazing feat.

“I was worried, sorry.”

Claude quickly scanned the ensuing insanity, thinking of a way to fix this. “Okay, I have a plan.”

“What is it?” They both asked at the same time.

But instead of getting an answer, Claude turned around, and ran like a mad man in the opposite direction.

There was an almost comedic pause as Dimitri and Edelgard looked at each other with confused looks.

“Do… do we go after him?” Dimitri asked. “Is this the plan?”

Edelgard’s face twisted into an angry scowl, but before she could say anything Dimitri ran after Claude, completely thinking that this was most certainly the plan and not an attempt for Claude to ditch them to increase his chances of survival. Edelgard, knowing fully well that the duke’s plans were far from noble, ran after Dimitri. If only to get a chance to finish Claude off swiftly.

As for Claude himself, he ran without looking back. Passing burning buildings and people who wanted his head. He ran a good several yards before his lungs started to burn and he was forced to stop and take a few deep breaths.

“Claude! Where are we going?”

Claude paused, cursed in his head, and turned to find, much to his dismay, Edelgard and Dimitri hot on his trail Edelgard looked ready to remove his head from his body with her axe, fully aware that he ditched them. Dimitri, on the other hand, looked around in innocent confusion

“Ah,” Claude smiled flatly. “So this is how I die.”

Right as he spoke the words, he heard an angry roar come from behind the group as two bandits came charging out of the trees, weapons raised and their intents to kill.

The three spun around to face the enemy, but Claude stood too close to the attackers and therefore was unable to shoot an arrow that would land an effective shot.

Claude should’ve felt afraid, but he frankly didn’t care. He knew he had to die eventually, he just didn’t anticipate it’d be here.

_ Well, goodbye world. _

But before the sword could land a fatal blow, or even before Dimitri and Edelgard could even think to raise their weapons, there was a _ fwoosh _. And then, shooting across the field like a falling star, was a ball of Fire that slammed directly into the would-be attacker’s back. Immediately, the bandit’s clothes caught fire and he screamed a really horrible sound as he fell to the ground desperate to put out his burning clothes. The smell was an awful combination of burnt hair and meat, and the sight of the man roasting alive was not a sight that Claude would likely ever forget.

As for the other bandit, he didn’t even register that his friend was dead as a figure came running out of the tree line like a phantom, and running a silver blade right through their back. The bandit let out a scream, and fell to the ground as a figure that, frankly, Claude first thought was a demon stood over the now dead attacker. A slight smear of blood was on her face.

The three were left speechless as their savior was joined by an identical figure, and they both stared at the three with two sets of blue, emotionless-looking eyes.

Then Claude could actually get a good look at them; a woman and a man with the same dark blue hair and similar features. The man hands were smoldering with smoke and the woman held a sword. They stared at the three like statues, their eyes unfaltering and studying every aspect of them.

Claude wasn’t convinced they weren’t demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: Oh my god this was a long chapter x_x We swear they won't always be this long
> 
> EldritchGremlin: Thanks for all the support so far oh my goodness. Also, would you guys like it if we added links to songs to play while you read the chapter? For mood and stuff
> 
> HappyBirddi: So much Spice and Wolf and Nier music...
> 
> EldritchGremlin: Also any critique on how to write the three lords is welcome! We want to portray them as accurately as possible. Also in case anyone is curious, Byriel is named after an angel, Bariel.


	3. Chapter 2: Divine Pulse

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Two ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Divine Pulse ⋅ ✦

* * *

It had been a long time since Jeralt felt this anxious. The last time he recalled pacing like he was doing now was the night he had left everything behind in ashes. He had been careful, picking only jobs that were furthest away from the reaches of the monastery, making sure they left no tracks. But now, it seemed as if the past was going to finally catch up to him.

He knew this day was inevitable. The older Byleth and Byriel grew, the more questions they asked. It was easier to lie to them when they were too young to be concerned with the lies he told, but now?

Jeralt was too restless to sleep. The moment he knew Byleth and Byriel were sound asleep, the pacing began again until he was too tired to do so anymore and resigned to a simple wooden chair. He sat by the window to their room, staring out at the ink-colored sky. There were no stars he could see, and Remire Village was quiet this time of night. And yet, even in the safety of the inn, he couldn’t help but be prepared for an attack. From who, he had no idea.

Genuine fear settled in his weary bones. _ I could tell them everything now. I could tell them the truth, they’re old enough to understand. _ Then the image of his wife’s body flashed briefly before his eyes. And the promise he had made to both Byleth and Byriel that they would never see the monastery ever again.

Rhea… did she believe he was dead? Did she believe the lie he almost died to set up?

Finally, coming to a decision, Jeralt stood up and got to work. Thankfully, most of his fellow mercenaries were still awake at this hour, so it was easy to spread the word of a sudden shift in plans. When the news was spread, he returned to the room and walked over to Byleth’s side of the bed. He felt bad, they had all spent the previous day traveling so much. They were likely exhausted, but he had to get them moving. Jeralt gently placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her. “Hey. Time to wake up.”

“Hm?” She mumbled a little, shifting in her sleep.

“Come on, Byleth. We need to get ready to take off again.”

Her eyes opened wearily. “Huh? Already?”

“Yeah, there’s been a change in plans. We’re heading to the kingdom. It’s far so we need to hit the road quickly. Wake your brother up.”

Byleth sat up as Jeralt began to gather their few belongings. She looked over at her brother, who was sleeping deeply. She tried shaking him, but nothing happened. She shook harder, but it had no effect.

This called for drastic measures.

Byleth slapped at the side of his face repetitively, not hard enough to leave a mark but just strong enough where Byriel’s face scrunched up and he let out an angry groan.

“Is the building on fire…?” He mumbled, questioning the danger he could have been in versus the want for more sleep.

“No.”

He growled and turned back over. “Unless the building is on fire, don’t wake me up.”

“I told her to wake you up,” Jeralt walked over to Byriel’s side of the bed and gave him a hard shove, “Get dressed.” 

Byriel let out a groan, burying his face in the pillow. “Let me sleep.”

"Byriel, don't make me drag you out of bed," Jeralt spoke harshly.

Byriel had never been a morning person, not even as an infant. But after a moment, he sat up and glared daggers at his father and sister for a moment before finally pulling himself out of bed and slowly getting dressed. The twins managed to get dressed, though their senses were dulled by the sudden wake-up call.

Byriel let out a long yawn and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m suddenly jealous of that green-haired girl.”

Jeralt gave them a look. “Green-haired girl? Were you two having that dream again?”

Byleth nodded, more alert than her brother. “Yeah… the one about war and a young girl…”

He wasn’t too surprised. His children had described such a dream of war and a young girl many times before. As children they would ask their father who she was; a girl with long green hair, pointed ears and sitting upon a throne. He had no idea what they were talking about, assuming it was some kind of imaginary friend they came up with. They had already come up with a secret language at that age, so he assumed it was part of a game they made up.

But as they got older, the dreams they described were more vivid. Even stranger was that they described talking to each other in the dreams, as if they were both there. Jeralt had thought maybe it was just a weird coincidence, but it was something that scared him for a bit.

They weren’t normal children, he knew that and accepted that fact. But this was weird, even for them.

“You’ve described her to me before. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like that.” Jeralt shook his head. He shrugged. “In any case, just put that out of your mind for now. The battlefield is no place for idle thoughts. Risking your life is part of the job for mercenaries like us. Letting your mind wander is a sure way to get yourself killed.” They both nodded. They were harsh words, but that was reality. “Okay, time to get moving. Our next job is in the Kingdom.”

Byriel raised his eyebrows. “Faerghus? Why are we going there? Don’t we have a job here?”

“There’s been a change in plans. There’s a different job in Faerghus that will pay better. Everyone has already been informed of the plan, so we just need to go.” He looked to Byleth. “I told you before. It’s far from here, so we’ll need to leave at dawn. You can sleep on the way.”

Byriel yawned. “You said the magic words.”

Byleth nodded. “I understand.”

Jeralt was glad they were going along with the shift in plans, but he had no doubt they’d start asking questions again. Hopefully by the time they did start asking, he’d be mentally prepared enough to explain to them the truth.

He glanced out the window, seeing the mercenaries already standing at the ready. “Good grief. Everyone is already waiting for us outside.”

Right as they began to head out the door, there was a frantic knocking. When Jeralt opened the door, one of the mercenaries entered the room and spoke urgently, “Jeralt! Sir! Sorry to barge in, but your presence is needed!”

He looked at Byleth and Byriel, who stared at their father with a questioning look. Then he turned to the mercenary. “What happened?”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

The three lords stared at their sudden saviors with amazement, and a little bit of unease. On the opposite side, Byleth and Byriel stared at the three strangers with blank, and slightly suspicious looks.

“So I’m going to assume you’re the reinforcements or…?” Claude awkwardly started. He looked to Byleth and made a gesture to her cheek. “Oh, by the way… you have something on your face.” 

She dragged her thumb over the small smear of blood on her face, wiping it off without speaking. The twins stared at the man in gold with looks of confusion, still not saying anything. 

Edelgard stepped forward. “Who are you?”

Byriel blinked, “Demons.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Claude laughed.

“Claude, don’t be rude!” Dimitri glared at his companion disapprovingly.

No response came from Byleth or Byriel. Jeralt came to the twin’s sides, stepping a little bit in front of them protectively. “What the hell is going on out here?”

“Please forgive our intrusion. We wouldn’t bother you were the situation not dire.” Dimitri, ever the polite one, was the first to answer the older mercenary with a short bow.

Jeralt narrowed his eyes at the three nobles. “What do a bunch of kids like you want at this hour?”

“We’re being pursued by a group of bandits,” Dimitri continued to explain. “I can only hope that you will be so kind as to lend your support.”

“Bandits? Here?”

Edelgard nodded. “It’s true. They attacked us while we were at rest in our camp.”

“We’ve been separated from our companions and we’re outnumbered,” Claude jumped in immediately. “They’re after our lives… not to mention our gold.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, they did have several valuables at the camp, but the cart that carried the majority of their weapons and other goods had gotten lost somewhere earlier in the day and had yet to show up. Claude had no doubts that their pursuers were mostly there for blood, but wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to grab a bit of cash on their way out from the attempted assassination.

Jeralt still looked at the three of them with suspicion.

“I’m impressed you’re staying so calm considering the situation. I… ” Then he blinked, and closer examined their uniforms; black lined with gold and silver. “Wait. That uniform…”

Suddenly a fellow mercenary ran up to the group. “Bandits spotted just outside the village! Damn… there are a lot of them.”

Jeralt looked at the three lords accusingly, his wary eyes looking them over, “I guess they followed you all the way here.” 

Dimitri and Edelgard gave Claude a similar accusatory look. 

“We can’t abandon this village now.” Jeralt shifted his gaze to Byleth and Byriel. “Come on, let’s move. Hope you’re both ready.”

They both nodded, not saying anything as Jeralt walked back to their cart and untied the horse, a strong stallion built for the battlefield. Leaving the five of them to look amongst themselves with more awkward tension. To Claude’s dismay. _ As if these two weren’t bad enough. _

Edelgard immediately stepped forward, pointing at Byleth, “You there. You seem to know how to wield a sword, yes?”

Byleth gave a small nod, clearly uncomfortable around the three strangers. 

“In that case, you, Dimitri and I will stay in the front.” She looked to Byriel. “You use magic, right?” Byriel, much like his twin, gave a silent nod. “Then you can stay in the back with Claude.”

Byriel made a face at Claude, but nodded in response.

Dimitri nodded and smiled a little. “A wise strategy.”

“It’s common sense.” Claude muttered under his breath.

Edelgard shook off both of their comments, “If there are no objections, then let’s advance.”

As the five got into ready positions, Claude looked over at his newly found allies. Still unconvinced that they weren’t demons of some kind; they were unnaturally calm. The air was bitter and cold in the early spring, but there was a part of him that wondered if the twins’ demeanor had made the atmosphere more frigid. It was one thing for the three lords to be calm, but these two seemingly showed no emotion on the surface whatsoever.

They moved across the way until they were right up against a fence leading into the village. Immediately, they could all see one lone bandit standing and waiting for them to make a move, and not too far behind him were a few other bandits lingering and waiting.

“So how do we want to do this?” Claude asked. "Its an easy shot for me from this distance."

Edelgard scanned the field. “We can probably head straight into them and be able to take them down with our numbers.”

“Is that really the wisest idea?” Dimitri looked at her questioningly, raising an eyebrow, “We should be focused on taking down the leader.”

Edelgard gave him a look. “You’re not seriously considering running into the middle of that, are you?”

Dimitri narrowed his eyes at her. “If we take down the leader, the rest of them are likely to surrender.”

“Why don’t we just get closer and just attack from a distance?” Claude threw in.

“If we do that, we run the risk of alerting them!” Edelgard argued, violet eyes narrowing, “If we go in, full strength, we’re bound to overpower them!”

“Or it’s a good way for us to get killed!” Dimitri pointed out. “We should be going right for the leader!”

“I don’t see why shooting them won’t do anything!” Claude reiterated. 

While the three argued, Byleth and Byriel stared at the three lords for a moment. Then they looked at each other.

“So uh… I stun the guy, you finish him off and run for the bushes?” Byriel asked his sister quietly.

“That’s a good plan.” Byleth nodded.

“Should we tell them?”

“Uh…” Byleth glanced at the three nobles, still bickering. “They’ll figure it out.”

They both nodded, and walked past the three lords. Their sudden movements drew attention away from their trying to decide on a course of action, and they were all stunned into silence as Byriel raised his hand at the bandit. Fire shot right out of his hand, shooting across the field like before and hitting the bandit in the chest. The unfortunate thief didn’t have enough time to register the blow before Byleth darted across the field, landing a slash across his chest and finishing the job, the sword burning and turning red from the sudden heat the bandit had been hit with. The bandit fell dead before he even knew what hit him.

The three lords were speechless.

Byriel, deciding to be the leader, pointed to the bushes in the surrounding area. “We should circle around them, taking out as many bandits as we can and slowly advancing on the leader.”

Dimitri looked at Byriel, and smiled. Glad that their new companion was finally talking to them. Then he nodded. “Understood.”

The three lords quickly followed suit; Edelgard and Dimitri following after Byleth as she darted into the bushes while Claude and Byriel went around and into another set of bushes. At their sudden movements, the ruffians quickly advanced on the group. Claude and Byriel, from where they were, had a well-enough view over the field and were able to shoot off arrows and magic spells as a way to stun enemies and give their more melee-preferred allies to finish them off.

It was a brilliant strategy on Byriel’s part really, even Byleth knew he was very smart when it came to that sort of thinking. He scanned the battlefield as if it were some kind of game, one that only he and his sister could really see and understood enough.

Even Jeralt nodded approvingly from where he stood in the back. “Yes, good. If we’re in the forest, we can sustain their attacks without losing the advantage.”

“Are you guys even human?” Claude asked Byriel.

He shrugged nonchalantly, as if asked that question several times before.

While the two had jokingly called themselves demons before with the lords and the girl in their dreams, it wasn’t entirely a lie. The two had, over the years, picked up the nickname ‘The Ashen Demons’. It was a bit tasteless, and Jeralt would likely punch anyone who called them such a name. But it wasn’t entirely a lie; the two could come off as cold-blooded and aloof, and many would rather face their terrifying father rather than the two demons who seemingly killed without feeling. 

“Well fine then, doesn’t matter I guess so long as you can fight. It’s because of you guys that I’m not dead right now. So thanks for that!” Claude gave a wink to Byriel. “I didn’t expect to run into mercenaries like you in some remote village. The gods of fortune must truly be smiling on me!”

Byriel internally cringed at the prospect of social communication. He could light a field on fire with a flick of the wrist, he could heal ribs that had been shattered like glass, hell he was even decent with a sword, second only to Byleth. But when it came to conversations, Byriel was about as useless as Fire was on a rainy day. It wasn’t swords or magic spells that were the Ashen Demon’s ultimate weakness.

It was social interaction.

Byleth watched the next advancing wave of enemies, only two that stood between them and a large, burley brute that she assumed was the leader. She was so focused on figuring out the best course of action that she completely forgot that Dimitri and Edelgard were right behind her.

Before Byleth could move, she only saw a flash of red as Edelgard charged forward and took down one of the bandits as easily as someone might split a log in half. The movement made Byleth run forward, right for the remaining bandit. After one fell swoop, she felt the muscles in her left leg tightened like a vice. She winced, and the distraction made her stumble and miss the second attack by barely an inch.

“You dastard! I’ll kill you!”

Byleth turned, but right as the ruffian was about to strike her down with their lance and likely leave a really serious injury, Dimitri ran up and raked his own weapon right across the man, causing him to cry out and crumple into a heap.

“Are you alright?” He asked her, looking genuinely concerned.

It was surprising for someone other than Byriel or her father to be concerned about her, since she was so used to watching her own back on the field.

All she could say was, “Y-yes u-uh… th-thank you...”

He smiled at her. “That’s good to hear! Thank you, by the way. We are in your debt. It wouldn’t do for us to fall in a place like this. Please, lend us your strength a bit more, and we can drive out these thieves!” 

Byleth shrank inside from anxious tension. She wasn’t used to being around people in general, and being complimented in full like this felt less flattering at the moment and more like being squeezed to death. Still, he did seem sincere.

She nodded again, and muttered a “R-Right…” before turning back to the fight.

Edelgard looked at the two, waiting. “Let’s move forward.”

With the next wall of enemies down, Claude and Byriel were in the clear to run around and advance on the other end. In the middle of the field was an abandoned watchtower with it’s torches still burning bright and a small shack with a pile of timber sitting outside it. It was more of an obstacle than anything, which worked as an advantage and disadvantage on both sides. The two groups immediately spotted the main bandit, flanked by two more ruffians on his right as they were illuminated by burning torches. 

Byriel’s plan on sticking to the bushes had worked elegantly, as they had no direct pinpoint on where their attackers were. Jeralt still followed close behind, clearly more visible and the only one the bandits could even vaguely see. Claude had no problems withdrawing an arrow and shooting it before Byriel could even register the movement.

The leader, an ugly and grizzled, as well as stout, man scanned the trees. The groups were perfectly hidden in the shadows and out of sight. “Damn. Why are there so many mercenaries in the village?! Guess we’ll just have to deal with them too!” He advanced, walking closer into the torch light from the watchtower.

Edelgard looked to Byleth from their position. “Both of us at once, alright?”

Byleth nodded, not taking her eyes off the ultimate target.

Then, the moment the leader took the first step into the light, the two women charged for the main target with Dimitri going after one of the bandits on the side as both Claude and Byriel revealed themselves from the bushes. An arrow shot across the field, hitting the other ruffian in the chest as Byriel drew out his own sword and cut the bandit down.

The leader turned his furious gaze on Edelgard and Byleth, “I’m gonna kill you where you stand!”

The axe came screaming through the air, but before it could make contact Byleth ducked under in a roll and slashed at him. It missed him by only an inch, only slightly scratching at the man’s disgusting and worn armor. Edelgard, thankfully, picked up where Byleth missed and slashed the man across the chest.

At the same time, Byleth could see the fight between Dimitri and the ruffian was at an equal point. Thankfully though, Byriel spotted them first and ran across the field, landing a blow on the ruffian’s back and giving Dimitri the opening to finish the job.

“Watch out!”

Byleth heard a scream, and turned to see another bandit, one she didn’t even notice before, fall to the earth with an arrow sticking out of his back. 

Claude walked up to her. “He jumped out of the watchtower. Gotta keep an eye on your surroundings, miss uh…” He squinted at her, unsure what to call her since he hadn’t learned her name. “Uh nevermind, we’ll worry about that later.”

She nodded and turned her attention back to the fight at hand.

At this point, Jeralt had decided he had watched for long enough and decided to step in. His horse galloped across the field and right up to the leader of the bandits. The leader’s jaw went slack at the sight, and he even took several steps back out of fear.

“W-What the-?! Aren’t you Jeralt the Blade Breaker?! What’s a renowned mercenary like you doing here?!”

Jeralt tightened his grip on his lance. “I’m the one who should be complaining. I’m caught up in the mess you started!”

The horse lunged forward, and right before the group’s eyes Jeralt landed a powerful enough blow that almost would’ve certainly killed the bandit if he weren’t standing just a little bit closer. There was a sickening _ crunch _ that made every single one of them cringe on the inside, and they were all shocked that the bandit was still alive at all. Edelgard took the open opportunity, and lunged forward. She swung, and the impact of the blade sent the man sprawling onto his back. There was a dry _ snap _, and the blade of Edelgard’s axe went flying off and into the dirt behind her. She threw the useless stick aside, not taking her eyes off the ruffian.

At the sight of this, several other bandits came from the trees. All unsure what to do now that their leader was gone.

Then the bandit got up, and glared daggers at Edelgard. Now unarmed, she was practically helpless as he screamed and lunged for her. She drew out a small dagger as an attempt to defend herself, but it was no use.

Seeing this, and both acting on instinct of just helping save the life of this woman they had just met, Byriel and Byleth ran for her at the same time. Not even caring about their survival at this point.

“No don’t!” Jeralt yelled at them, but it was too late.

Byriel dove in front of Edelgard, and Byleth ran by his side as the axe came down, right into her brother’s back.

She screamed, but then there was the sound of glass shattering. The world went dark, quiet. Unnaturally quiet.

Byleth came to his side. “Are you okay?!”

Byriel expected to feel the sharp, burning pain of a blade through his back. But he felt nothing. He opened his eyes, and he looked around. Byleth was looking at him with worry and concern.

“Y-Yeah, where’s that woman? And,” He looked around. “Where in hell are we?”

They looked around; they were now standing in a completely unfamiliar dark void. No sign of their father or any of the nobles or bandits they had just been fighting.

No, not unfamiliar at all. 

“Honestly! What are you accomplishing with that little stunt?!”

There came a soft, green glow. And the two spun around. Their gazes fell upon a stone throne. And a girl sitting upon it glaring at them.

“It’s like you’re trying to get me killed, you fools!” She sighed in annoyance. “Well, it’s fine. After all, if you don’t know the value of your own lives, you’re not going to protect it very well, are you? Of course not.”

“I-It’s you!” Byleth gaped.

“Well then,” the girl stood up, a rather cocky look on her face, “I guess it’s up to me to guide you both from now on. Right?”

“What the hell are you?” Byriel pointed his sword at her. Not the smartest idea admittedly, but they weren’t exactly in a state to think rationally.

The girl arched her back, proud and haughty, “You can call me Sothis… but I’m also known as ‘The Beginning’.”

Byleth and Byriel looked at each other, slightly confused.

Sothis made a puzzled face, pressed her palm against her chin in thought, “Hmm… Sothis… Yes, that is it. My name is Sothis. And I am also called… The Beginning. But who once called me that?”

“Sothis?” Byriel questioned.

“I was not able to recall my name… until just now… and just like that, it came to me. How odd,” Byleth and Byriel stared blankly at the girl, and she immediately narrowed her gaze in a glower at them, “That look upon your faces… Did you think me a child? A mere child who forgot her own name?!”

“Uh-” Byleth tried to speak.

“Phooey!” The girl cut her off, her eyes full of fury, “That ‘child’ just saved your lives! And what does that make you?”

“Less than a child?” Byriel cocked his head to the side.

Sothis smirked a little. “Correct! You understand.”

Byleth made a face, slightly frowning, “We’re not children.”

“You threw yourselves in before an axe to save just one young girl,” Sothis lectured, “Yet all is well, as I have stalled the flow of time for now. You would have both died had I not intervened.”

The twins exchanged a look of shock, realizing what was happening. Immediately remembering their manners, they both bowed and, unintentionally at the same time, both said “Thank you.”

Sothis smiled a little, clearly satisfied. “There now. Is gratitude so much to ask? I did deem you both worth saving, after all.”

Byleth crossed her arms, clearly not pleased at all.

Then Sothis’s face fell. “Though it is only momentary, time has stopped. However did I manage that?”

“What will happen when time resumes?” The swordswoman asked.

“When time begins again, the axe will tear into your brother’s flesh, and you will surely meet your end in a similar fate.”

The twins immediately felt a shock wave of fear and panic go through their bodies at the sudden realization of just how reckless their actions had been. And now was the end.

“How rude of you to drag me into this!” Sothis lamented. “Now what to do…”

They were both quiet, unsure of what to say.

“Can you go back?” Byriel asked, ever the more rational and logical one, “Assuming you can pause time, can you turn the hands of time back?”

Sothis’s face lit up. “Of course! I must turn back the hands of time!”

Then before the girl, a gold light of symbols and circles appeared before her. And in the very center of it was a strange, flame-like design that was, oddly enough, familiar to both Byleth and Byriel. It burned into their memories, every curve and detail unforgettable and the image itself felt personal, despite both of them being entirely sure they had never seen it before. Maybe once, but a very long time ago.

“Yes… I do believe it can be done. You both really are quite troublesome.” Then the girl looked at them sternly. “I cannot wind back time too far, but all is well. You are both aware of what’s to come, which means you can protect yourselves this time.”

“We will.” Byriel nodded, “Thank you, Sothis.”

Byleth caved. “Yes, thank you…”

Sothis smiled for a moment, but then went serious. “Now, go… Yes, you two who bear the flames within. Drift through the flow of time to find the answers that you seek…”

Then Sothis disappeared, and before both of Byleth and Byriel’s eyes they saw the world come back to them in a storm of colors and images. The world flew past them quickly, until finally stopping just moments before. They stood exactly where they once did, the lords and their father were back in their places, and the bandit leader was getting up again.

“I-It really worked…” Byleth gasped.

This time, as the bandit came charging, Byriel ran in front of Edelgard with his sword drawn. The moment the axe swung through the air, he raised his blade and blocked the axe as it was an inch away from his face and cause it to go flying behind him. This caused the bandit to stumble, giving Byleth the chance to run and knock the brute off his feet and send him rolling backwards.

“Rat dastard…” Byriel grumbled.

“We did it…” Byleth looked to her brother. The twins gave each other looks of amazement and knowing. 

“Hey- over here!”

They turned around, seeing Claude and Dimitri joining Edelgard behind them and all three of them giving them looks of astonishment, and admiration.

Jeralt’s horse rode up beside the five, and the twins were just as surprised to see that their father had a similar look of astonishment as the nobles did. “Hey, did you just…?”

Before they could respond, or even before Jeralt could ask the whole question, they heard several pairs of feet come running in their direction. Everyone turned, thinking it was more bandits, only to be surprised to see three men in polished armor and weapons.

“The Knights of Seiros are here! We’ll cut you down for terrorizing our students!”


	4. Chapter 3: Garreg Mach

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Three ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Garreg Mach ⋅ ✦

* * *

Stomping through the brush and into the clearing, rather loudly Byriel would note, was a man and two other knights dressed in full armor. The one in the middle, an older man about Jeralt’s age with well-kempt brown hair and an evenly trimmed beard to match, scanned the area. His armor shined in the limited light, polished with a few scratches, the white and red of his attire complimenting each other. His face fell as he saw the retreating thieves making a run for the trees.

“H-Hey! They’re getting away, go after them!” The other two knights at his side made a break for the thieves while the man, their assumed commander, ran up to the group. “Are all of you uninjured?”

“We’re fine,” Dimitri nodded briskly.

“That’s good to hear!” He looked at the group. “And who are they?”

Jeralt sighed, sounding defeated, “Why him?”

The man looked to the twin’s father. And his face became a mix of several emotions at once. First shock, then confusion, and then ultimately… relief.

“Captain Jeralt?! Is it really you?!” He laughed, astonished. “By the goddess, it really is you! Do you recognize me? It’s Alois! Your old right-hand man! Well, that’s how I always thought of myself anyway. It must have been almost twenty years ago that you… that you…”

He stopped, as if remembering something very upsetting. But then he shook his head, rebounding. “I _ always _ knew you were still alive!”

Jeralt’s face fell a bit, but then he sighed. “You haven’t changed a bit, Alois. Just as loud as ever. And drop that ‘captain’ nonsense. I’m not your captain anymore. These days, I’m just a wandering mercenary. One who has work to do. Goodbye, old friend.”

“Right… goodbye, Captain.” There was a pause. Then Alois blinked and cried out, “Wait! That’s isn’t how this should end! I insist that you return with us to the monastery!”

Jeralt’s face went grim, “Garreg Mach Monastery…” 

Byleth and Byriel stared at him with a puzzled look. He saw this and sighed in defeat. “I suppose this was inevitable.”

Alois looked at the twins and asked, “And how about you two? Are you the captain’s children?”

“That is correct.” Byleth nodded.

“We’re bandits,” Byriel stated with a smirk.

Suddenly Alois burst out laughing, which shocked Byriel as he wasn’t expecting such a response. “Great sense of humor, this one! Clearly cut from the same cloth as the captain! I’d love for you both to see the monastery too! You will join us, won’t you?”

Byleth and Byriel hesitated, then looked to their father. He had a very uneasy air about him, and he gave them a look that clearly said that they shouldn’t accept.

“What’s troubling you, Captain?” Alois asked, “You’re not about to run off again, are you?”

“Even I wouldn’t dare run from the Knights of Seiros.” He looked to the twins, then back to Alois with an intimidating expression. One he only reserved for the worst of bandits. “Alois, can I talk to you?”

Alois flinched a bit at Jeralt’s expression, but it only lasted for a moment before the two walked away from Byleth and Byriel. At least, far enough where they were out of earshot.

“The Knights of Seiros… They do seem rather skilled!”

Byriel and Byleth’s eyes grew wide, and Byriel looked around quickly. Neither of them had spoken, and there was no one around who could’ve talked to them.

“Uh, either I’m crazy, or I just heard someone talking.”

“Wasn’t that… Sothis?” Byleth asked her brother.

“It was,” Sothis replied as if the situation were completely normal. They both fell silent, eyes wide with disbelief, “Ah, it seems your presence is required. Get going!”

They looked around and saw that the three nobles were looking at them, waiting for them.

“This has been a really weird day…” Byriel muttered as he walked to the three noble’s direction.

“It’s not even dawn yet and I agree.” Byleth nodded, following close behind.

As soon as the two were close enough, Edelgard smiled a little and said, “I appreciate your help back there. Your skills are beyond question, you’re both clearly experienced mercenaries. And your father, that would be Jeralt, the Blade Breaker?”

Both twins were silent as Edelgard continued, “Former captain of the Knights of Seiros. Oft praised as the strongest knight to ever live. Have I missed anything?”

“We didn’t know he was a captain,” Byriel admitted to her, avoiding eye contact.

“How curious,” Edelgard mused, “I’d wager the explanation for that is fascinating indeed.”

Claude gave the two a wide grin. “Hey, you’re both coming with us to the monastery, right?”

“Um-” Byleth tried to piece the right words together but came up blank.

“Of course you are, I’d love to bend your ear as we travel.” Claude didn’t wait around for a response for more than a beat. “Oh, I should probably mention that the three of us are students of the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery. We were doing some training exercises when those bandits attacked. I definitely got the worst of it.”

Edelgard, being reminded of the stunt Claude had pulled earlier that morning, turned on him, her violet eyes glaring daggers at him. “That would be because you ran off.”

“Too true! I was the first to make a strategic retreat!” Claude admitted, having no regrets admitting his real intentions now that the chaos was over, “Everything would have worked out if you two hadn’t followed me and ruined everything. Because of them, every single one of those bandits chased after us. Utterly ridiculous.”

It was at that moment that Dimitri had finally realized that what he thought was a clever strategy was actually Claude trying to ditch the group and leave them to the dogs, his eyes growing wide with realization. It looked like he had been slapped.

Dimitri blinked and then frostily said, “Ah, so that’s what you were thinking, Claude. And here I thought you were acting as a decoy for the sake of us all.”

Byriel snickered a little under his breath at the absolute befuddlement on the noble’s face, only to be met with a look of disappointment from his sister.

“His intentions were clear as day!” Edelgard turned to Dimitri, obviously frustrated that he only just now realized the truth behind their traitorous companion’s intentions. “You will prove a lacking ruler if you cannot see the truth behind a person’s words!”

“You will prove a lacking ruler yourself if you look for deceit behind every word and fail to trust those whom you rely on!” Dimitri defended.

Claude sighed. “Oh joy, a royal debate between Their Highnesses. I wonder how being _ completely predictable _ affects one’s ability to wield power. Personally, as the embodiment of distrust, I’d say your little exchange smacks of naiveté.”

Edelgard sharply turned on Claude, seemingly ready to drive the dagger right into his throat. “Me? Naive?! Tell me, are you actually incapable of being quiet, or is your lack of self-awareness a condition of some sort?!”

“Yes, I can attest that it is a very real and serious condition, my poor sister here has it. It’s extremely tragic and incurable I’m afraid,” Byriel suddenly spoke up, unable to resist the opportunity.

There was a beat of silence as the group processed what Byriel had just said. Then Claude burst out laughing. “Finally! Someone with a sense of humor!”

A muscle fluttered in Byleth’s cheek, and before any of the nobles or Byriel realized it, Byleth slammed a closed fist right into the back of her brother’s shoulder with a dull _ thud _. He let out a sharp yelp and rubbed at the spot.

“Me? Unaware?! You threw yourself in front of an axe not even a moment ago!” Byleth turned on her brother, glaring at him.

“I’ll have you know it was part of a genius plan I had!” Byriel shot back, rubbing at the sore spot on his shoulder.

“There’s nothing ‘genius’ about nearly getting killed!”

“Calling the kettle black now, are we Ms. I-always-run-head-first-into-danger?! You are such a blockhead!”

“We’re twins, you moron!” Byleth reminded him. “You just called yourself a blockhead!”

“Well clearly, I was the only one born with a functional brain!”

“Are you asking to get hit again?”

Byriel smirked widely at her. “I can kick your ass any day of the week.”

“Maybe when the Eternal Flames freeze over you’d have half a chance.” Byleth challenged back.

“Did you not see the move I just pulled off?”

“You can’t even pull yourself out of bed before the sun rises!”

“Do I have to make you two walk all the way to Faerghus?” Jeralt suddenly yelled at the two of them. He was standing maybe thirty feet away, but he was glaring at the two of them over Alois’s shoulder.

The twins went silent, both slightly embarrassed at their sudden outbursts.

The three nobles stared at the two in blank surprise. A moment ago, they had both seemed to impassive and distant. Now they were trading insults like children, and had reacted as such when they were scolded by the older mercenary.

Claude was enjoying every minute of it. “For the record, my money is on him winning that fight. You’ll have to let me watch when it does happen!”

Dimitri and Edelgard gave Claude a look of disbelief. Though whether they thought he was being rude again, or that they didn’t believe that in a real fight Byriel would match against his sister was really anyone’s guess. Either way, Byriel gave a satisfied look at his sister who returned the look with another attempt at hitting him. Which he moved out of the way successfully this time.

Dimitri cleared his throat, having been watching the two of them bicker quietly the whole time, and looked to Byleth, “In any case, forgive our digression. I must speak with you, if you can spare a moment.

Byleth turned to him, reverting back to being awkward, “H-Huh?”

The young lord smiled at her. “The way you held your ground against the bandits’ leader was captivating! You never lost control of the situation, it showed me that I still have much to learn!”

Edelgard turned to the both of them. “You both have a somewhat odd aura about you… you say you are mercenaries, and yet you are clearly skilled.”

Byriel shrank a bit. “U-Um-”

“Your skills are precisely why I must you both to consider lending your services to the Empire.”

“E-Empire-?” Byleth mumbled, feeling that all-too familiar sensation of her insides cringing at social interaction.

“I might as well tell you now, I am no mere student. I am also the Adrestian Empire’s-”

“Halt, Edelgard!” Dimitri interrupted. “Please allow me to finish my own proposition.” Edelgard shot him a look as he went back to talking at both twins. 

“The Holy Kingdom of Faerghus is in dire need of exceptional individuals like yourselves! Please, do consider returning to the Kingdom with me.”

“The Empire would gladly accept the both of you into their ranks.” Edelgard insisted. “Your ability to come up with strategy was ingenious, you would prove to be a powerful ally!”

Dimitri furrowed his brow a bit. “Your skills with magical arts and your talent with swords, not to mention your courage, would be greatly welcomed with the knights of Faerghus!”

Byleth and Byriel felt the unwanted press of their expectations weigh down. They found that their tongues were a little too heavy and wouldn’t form words.

“Whoa there! You two sure are hasty trying to recruit someone you just met.” Claude, who had been watching the whole time, didn’t think people could physically shrink. Though he wondered that if the two Royal Highnesses went on with their pressuring, the two would vanish into thin air. “Tactless really. I was personally planning to develop a deep and lasting friendship on our journey back to the monastery before begging for favors. But it seems there’s no time for niceties in this world. So, capable demons, let’s get right to it. Where do your allegiances lie?”

Byleth and Byriel stared at the third noble, unsure what to say.

“Hmm, it seems one’s place of birth is quite significant to them.” Sothis’s voice echoed in both of their heads. “Yet they are so impressed by you that you may take your pick. Well?”

Byriel wanted to scream out ‘why do we even have to pick?!’, but couldn’t form the words. The three lords stared at the two expectantly, waiting for an answer.

Wanting nothing more than to disappear into a puddle, Byriel immediately walked around behind Claude.

“I’d call that a win for the Alliance!” Claude proudly declared.

“Not really, I’m just hoping they’ll be too busy beating you up so we can get out of here.” Byriel muttered.

Byleth gave a chuckle at the response. It even got a laugh out of Edelgard for a moment. Even Dimitri cracked a bit of a smile as Claude briefly lost his. Only to rebound with more laughter. Clearly, the nobles were growing more and more fond of the strange twins the longer they spent with them. 

Before they could give a real answer, Alois, his knights, and Jeralt walked up to the five. Alois looked to the group, “Alright, that’s enough with the small talk. It’s time to head back to the monastery!”

The twins looked at their father with a questioning look, but he looked stern. Almost defeated in a way.

Claude shrugged. “Looks like we’ll have to pick this up another time.”

The three lords nodded amongst each other, and then followed Alois. Jeralt nodded to them, inclining them both to follow behind.

“My my, they are in such a hurry.” Sothis’s voice echoed through their minds. “You know, each of the three is most unique.”

The two thought over their three new acquaintances; Edelgard, a refined young woman that always seemed to be evaluating the two even on the battlefield. Dimitri, a sincere and seemingly kind person, but the way he fought to an almost ruthless extent led them both to sense a darkness lurking beneath the surface. Claude, the noble with the striking easy smile that never seemed to reach his eyes, always calculating what others would do.

“I am so sleepy once again…” Sothis yawned. “I may be sleeping… but I…” She trailed off, and her voice was no more.

Byriel looked his sister the moment their dad was out of range of hearing. “So have you heard of that monastery? Garreg Mach Monastery?”

“I was hoping you would’ve come across it in your books.”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve never heard of it… dad looked pretty serious though. I don’t think I’ve seen him with that expression in a while.”

Byleth’s gaze fell to the ground. “That man said he was a Captain. Captain of the Knights of Seiros, whatever those are… I guess we really don’t know much about him.”

“Well, we knew dad had secrets already. Everyone does.” Byriel’s mouth fell into a thin, tight line of contemplation. “Still… it’s troubling… why would he not tell us this sooner? Something bad must’ve happened to make him leave.”

As Alois and the rest of the nobles began to walk away, Jeralt stopped and waited for the two to catch up.

Byleth looked back to her brother. “Only one way to find out… right?”

Byriel got a sinking feeling in his gut at that, but he couldn’t deny the growing curiosity. A curiosity that, by the look on his sister’s face, was something they shared.

Jeralt was about to walk closer to his children, but then they started to walk after the rest of the group. Their faces were neutral once again, but their eyes were seemingly all-too knowing as they passed him. Much like that night, all those years ago. He waited for Byriel and Byleth to walk a bit past him before turning back around and following Alois and the other nobles. As he did, he felt a sense of dread he hadn’t felt in years. Pale green eyes watching and waiting for him from every angle.

She was waiting for them.

_ Sorry, I couldn’t keep my first promise to you two… but I’ll make you a new one right now. _ Jeralt clenched his fists for a moment as he caught up with Alois. _ I swear, I won’t let her lay a finger on either of you… even if it kills me again, I won’t let her take you two away like how she took your mother away. _

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

The day was warmer than the last, the final traces of the cold wind disappearing into a pleasant spring breeze, and the plant life was vivid as the group walked down the road. Jeralt didn’t talk much to Byriel or Byleth on the day’s trip. He mostly talked to Alois and the knights in their group. He almost looked at ease talking to the knights after a while, and it wasn’t too hard for the twins to imagine their father standing in the position of a Captain now. 

All the while, Byriel and Byleth more or less listened and made small chatter with the three lords. It was clear after a bit that the three were not necessarily friends, mostly allies relying on each other for power, but still close enough to make some conversation. Byriel and Byleth, unfortunately, were not very good conversationalists. Still, the lords were friendly and polite enough to try and include them.

“This will be your first time at the monastery, yes?” Dimitri asked Byleth. “I’d be happy to show you around.”

“Th-That’s…” Byleth froze a bit, stammering a little while Byriel cringed in sympathy for her terrible attempts of conversing. “That’s… kind of you to offer…”

“It really is Fodlan in a nutshell.” Claude added on with a smile. “Both the good and bad.”

Byriel and Byleth frowned a bit.

“Like it or not, we’ll be there soon.” Edelgard kept pressing forward, her eyes focused on the road ahead. Byriel, who stood next to her, couldn’t help but sense an underlying bitterness to her tone. Not like Dimitri or even Claude’s at all. 

The group continued forward until the canopy of trees overhead finally started to break up, letting the afternoon light shine through. As they left the forest, a structure began to appear before them. Sitting on top of a series of hills and seemingly looking over the entire land was a very old and regal-looking structure built from ancient stone. It towered over them like a fortress or castle, not a monastery. Byriel, being more adapt with strategy, could only assume that they purposefully built it as such in case of any invasion, they would likely have an advantage in terms of terrain.

“There it is,” Edelgard’s eyes were locked on the structure as she spoke. “Garreg Mach Monastery.”

The twins stared at the destination ahead, and though neither of them had ever heard of Garreg Mach, there was a sense of familiarity from this place. They had no idea if that was a good or bad thing as they trekked up the grassy hills and through several gates until they reached what appeared to be a courtyard, guarded behind an iron gate and watched by several stern, but still seemingly friendly enough guards.

The courtyard was set up to be a market of some kind, with several merchants and blacksmiths trying to sell their wares here while several cats and dogs lay around without a care in the world. There were people walking all about, trying to sell what little they could, but they made no efforts to try and talk to them as they walked up the grand steps leading to the interior of the monastery.

The three nobles walked off, saying brief goodbyes, leaving Jeralt, Byriel, and Byleth to linger behind. As they were about to enter the building, Jeralt stopped and looked up.

“What is it?” Byriel asked, stopping in his tracks and turning to look at his dad.

Jeralt narrowed his eyes, glaring. “Rhea’s here…” 

They both looked up; the structure they were about to enter had a small balcony raised high above them. And there, standing and looking down upon them, was a woman with green hair. She was too far away to get an accurate look at her, but even from so high above the twins could feel her gaze. It was unsettling and even though they could not see her face, it definitely felt as if her eyes were following them as they walked through the front doors. Worshippers of the church wore blinding white and students wore dark black, all seeming to glance at them as they passed by.

The knights led the trio through a reception area and up a flight of stairs, all the way to what they called the Audience Chamber; a large, cathedral-esc place with glittering stained glass windows of saints, statues and columns built from dark stone and detailed with a delicate hand, and a dark wood throne that sat at the end of the room. Though, it was unoccupied.

“It’s been years since I’ve last set eyes on this place… to be forced to see her now…” Jeralt looked dead ahead.

“You’ve been here before, right?” Byleth asked him.

He nodded.

“Who’s this ‘her’ you keep talking about? That woman from the courtyard?” Byriel’s eyes fell around the room, in awe at the structure of it all.

“Yes, the archbishop. Lady Rhea. As you know, the majority of folks in Fódlan are devout followers of the teachings of Seiros. The leader of that ridiculously large religious organization is the archbishop, Lady Rhea.”

They knew the majority of that, though admittedly the twins were not really raised on those teachings. The most they ever did was give a blessing to the Goddess before meals, or when their father would sometimes ask that same Goddess for safe travels. Knowing now that he was a knight, it seemed like he hadn’t completely abandoned that part of his past after all. 

“Lady Rhea…” Byleth echoed.

Jeralt gave a hard look at the twins. “Look… there are things I’ve yet to tell you about my past. Things that I hoped I never had to bring up, and won’t make sense to what you know about me. Just let me do the majority of the talking, alright? Don’t talk to her unless she asks you directly, and if something doesn’t make sense you just have to go along with it. Got it?”

“Why?” Byriel asked.

Jeralt shook his head. “Things are going to be confusing enough as they are. Better that you wait until we leave this place before you start asking questions.” Before his children could start asking, the doors to the audience chamber opened. Jeralt gave one last look to the twins. “Trust me for now.”

Very briskly walked in two people, a man and a woman. The woman, who was most certainly Lady Rhea, with her long hair cascading down her shoulders like waves of a pale green ocean and with her bright peridot eyes that almost seemed to glow with luminescence. She wore a white dress, covered by a far more elaborate shawl of dark blue and a cape decorated in gold. Her headdress was gold, with lilies at the side that seemed to glow with her ethereal presence. She clasped her hands together and smiled at the two of them, her expression benevolent yet mysterious.

But there was something about her eyes that Byriel didn’t trust. He didn’t know why, but her gaze unnerved him. Like she was staring right through his soul, and already knew everything that he was.

The man standing next to the archbishop was barely taller than her and far more sterner, his face showing signs of stress. His hair was green as well and his beard was well trimmed, but his was much darker and his eyes were full of wariness and bewilderment as he stared at both Jeralt and the twins. Refined and wise, he wore dark blue robes and a golden circlet around his head, which stood out amongst the sea of white robes they had seen others wearing in the halls.

Jeralt took a step forward, making sure to plant himself between the archbishop and the twins like overprotective father bear.

“Thank you for your patience, Jeralt.” The man spoke curtly, quickly overcoming the slight expression of shock on his face, “My name is Seteth. I am an advisor to the archbishop.”

The twins shrank back a bit in discomfort. And though the man’s face didn’t change much, they could get the sense that he felt… saddened that they did so.

“Right, hello.” Jeralt replied dryly.

The archbishop turned to him. “It has been a long time, Jeralt. I wonder… was it the will of the goddess that we have another chance meeting like this?”

Jeralt gave a short bow, which the twins had never seen him do before. “Forgive my silence all these years. Much has happened since we last spoke.”

Her eyes fell upon Byriel and Byleth. “So, I see the miracle of fatherhood has blessed you. These are your children, are they not?”

Before they could respond, Jeralt said, “Yes, born many years after I left this place. I wish I could introduce you to the mother of my children, but I’m afraid we lost her to illness.”

“I see, my condolences.” Though it didn’t sound like she felt the slightest bit sympathetic. Byriel and Byleth couldn’t help but feel that they were deliberately trying to avoid talking about something.

The twins even noticed that the man who had called himself Seteth rubbed a hand over what looked like a sizable, old scar on his palm, seemingly absent-mindedly. He seemed very old, despite only looking about their father’s age. His eyes were a mirror of age and sorrow, yet again anything that has lived for a long time experiences a number of tragedies. That was what Byriel had read once, anyway, that exceptionally old things always had an air of sadness to them. Tragically long lives were always followed by sadness and loss, after all.

“I’ve heard word of your valiant efforts from Alois,” Rhea turned to the twins. “What are your names?”

They hesitantly looked to their father. But surprisingly, he nodded. Wordlessly giving them permission to tell her.

“Byleth…” Byleth muttered softly with a short bow, similar to how Jeralt had done. “He’s Byriel, my brother…”

Byriel bowed, but it was a bit awkward.

Rhea nodded, “Byriel and Byleth… fine names indeed. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for saving those students of the Officers Academy.”

Jeralt looked resigned. Surely, he was regretting that they had helped at all if this is where it led them.

Rhea turned her gaze back to their father. “Jeralt, you already know what it is I wish to say, do you not?’

“You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros, don’t you?” Silence fell upon the group, and Jeralt sighed. “I won’t say no, but…”

“Your apprehension stings, I had expected that Alois would have already asked this of you.” She glanced briefly back at Byleth and Byriel. “I must step away for now, but I expect they will desire a word with you soon. Please, listen carefully to what they have to say.”

If words could kill...

“Until tomorrow, farewell.”

And with that, the archbishop walked past the trio. Her eyes never leaving the twins as she did so. Seteth followed behind, though he stopped briefly and gave a look at Jeralt. Their father looked back. Their eyes connected and held contact for a moment before Seteth pulled away and briskly followed after Rhea.

When the trio were finally alone, Jeralt sighed, accepting his fate, “I can’t believe it… forced back into the Knights of Seiros. I’m sorry I dragged you two into this.”

Byriel shrugged, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It’s fine,” Byleth shook her head. “We can adapt. We always do.”

“Right… but it looks like I’ll be stuck here for a while.” He hesitated with the next words. “And… I’m afraid your services are requested as well.”

Byleth looked surprised. “We must… work here? As mercenaries?”

“Please tell me we don’t have to be servants here,” Byriel whined a little, “I would rather swing a sword for several hours than a broom.”

Jeralt shook his head. “Nothing like that. They want you both to teach here as professors by the sound of it.”

Silence fell upon the two like a pile of bricks. Then it hit them.

“T-Teach-?!” Byleth stammered.

Byriel let out a nervous laugh. “Good one dad, didn’t think you had a sense of humor.”

“You heard those brats earlier talking about the Officers Academy, right? Well, the academy just happens to be short a professor and apparently that damned Alois went and recommended you both to Lady Rhea. Interestingly enough though, they want both of you.”

More silence. Then panicking.

“Th-They’re kidding right? W-We’ve never even been to a real school before!” Byleth protested. 

“Still waiting for that punchline dad.” Byriel was still in the denial stage of his grief.

“They’re completely serious.”

“N-No, no way, w-we can’t teach!” Byriel finally cried out. “I can’t even get up before the sun rises, now you expect me to teach a bunch of- of brats?!”

Byleth was silently having a nervous breakdown; she hated talking in general and now she had to talk to a bunch of people every day? Ludicrous. “Th-This is a mistake!”

“Calm down, both of you. You’re acting like the world is ending.” They went quiet, but the panic remained. “Look, I think it’s weird as well. But you’re already going to be stuck here because of me, so might as well accept it.”

“Why can’t we just be students then?!” Byriel cried.

Jeralt shrugged. “They want you both to be professors, not students. Lady Rhea thinks you’re smart and skilled enough that putting you in a classroom would be a pointless waste of time, and that it would be more effective if you shared your knowledge with the other students as mentors of some kind.”

“Th-That’s not-!”

Before any more arguing could happen, the doors opened again and two new strangers walked to the group. One was an older man with grey hair, a well-trimmed and bushy mustache, a monocle, and wearing similarly grey robes with a green cravat. The other was a woman, older herself but not quite as old as her male companion, with short, light brown hair and dressed in a teal dress that was generous in showing her décolletage and slits in the side of it to show her long legs. She wore an expensive-looking white fur cape and her makeup was done with all the precision of an artist.

“So, you must be the new professor! My, how stern and handsome you are!” She mused to the twin’s father, making their insides churn.

“Er, no.” Jeralt also had a similar expression to his children. “I’m not the one you're looking for.”

Immediately, her eyes fell on the twins. For whatever reason, Byriel felt a sense of dread.

“You can handle things from here,” Jeralt blinked, “Good luck.”

“What?!” They both squeaked out as their father, traitorous dastard he was, turned around and was about ready to leave the room.

But, before he left, he muttered low enough for only the two to hear, “Watch out for Lady Rhea. I don’t know what she’s thinking making you two professors like this, she may be up to something. Stay on your guard.”

The words didn’t even really register until their father left the room. Leaving both of them at the mercy of the new strangers.

“Oh, it’s you two?” The woman looked them up and down, “So young!”

“Competence and age are not necessarily correlated, as you well know.” The older man replied, looking at the twins with a curious eye. “I am Hanneman, a Crest scholar and professor at the Officers Academy.”

Byriel stared at the old man like he was expecting him to lunge out and kill him, “... Nice to meet you…” 

“I wonder if you two bear a Crest of your own. When next you have a moment to spare, I insist that you pay me a visit so we can delve into the subject further!”

The woman stepped forward, smiling. “I’m Manuela, I’m a professor, a physician, a songstress, and available. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Wait what-?” Byriel attempted to speak up but his sister spoke up.

“You’re a songstress?” Byleth questioned. The woman most certainly did not look like a professor or a physician, but a songstress? Absolutely.

Manuela perked up at the mention. “Of course! Before I came here, I belonged to a renowned opera company! Perhaps you’ve heard of me? The Mittelfrank Opera Company’s beautiful, peerless-!”

Before she could go on, Hanneman cut her off, “Spare our colleague the needless chatter, Manuela.”

She glowered at the man. “Oh, but you’re able to go on about your Crest studies?”

“I don’t need to monologue about my studies, thank you.”

Byriel and Byleth let out a collective snort, the tension being eased a little.

“Now then,” Hanneman turned back to the twins. “It seems you’ll each be taking charge of one of the academy’s three houses. I expect you haven’t yet been briefed on the nature of each, have you?”

“We just got here so…” Byriel trailed off.

Byleth shook her head. “No, we haven’t… sorry.”

Manuela looked surprised. “Do you really not know?” The twins shook their heads. “Well then, I’ll do you a favor and explain.”

“I can also explain to them,” Hanneman added in.

The two professors filled in the gaps where they were needed; the Officers Academy was comprised of three houses of students closely affiliated with their region of origins. The first was Black Eagle, for students belonging to the Adrestian Empire and led by Edelgard, its current princess and next emperor. The second was Blue Lion, for students from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and led by Dimitri, its crown prince set to become king. The third was Golden Deer, for the remaining students hailing from the Leicester Alliance and led by Claude, grandson to the leader of the Alliance and set to take over.

The twins also realized that the three students they had met at dawn were the next emperor, king, and sovereign duke, and Byriel almost sacrificed Claude, an actual noble, to be beaten up by the other two as a distraction. Whoops. It felt odd looking back, but then it made sense.

It also hit them both how unqualified they really were to be professors if they were teaching nobles.

“To think that the next emperor, king, and sovereign duke are all here. It certainly is a promising year for the academy.” Hanneman spoke almost whimsically.

“I’ll say. I just hope none of those little ‘treasures’ cause any trouble.” Manuela rolled her eyes a bit.

“Hm, quite.” Hanneman almost returned the gesture before looking at the twins. “For now, I suggest taking a stroll around the academy to get your bearings. And when you have a moment, both of you, please stop by my research laboratory.”

“The old man has a point,” Manueala nodded, getting a look from said old man. “Oh, and keep in mind that I’ve only notified the house leaders that you’re our newest professors.”

“So no one else knows we’re professors…?” Byleth asked, with dread.

“It’s more fun that way.”

Byriel was about to shoot back a retort, but held his tongue for once. Not wanting to be rude to the two since they had yet to be rude.

“I suggest you two try spending time with the students. Some odd ducks in the bunch, but they’re good kids.” The two began to leave. “I’m sure Lady Rhea will have more information for you tomorrow, but that should get you going. Good luck, you’ll need it!”

“U-Um,” Byleth tried to speak up, but the words died in her throat.

And like that, the two were left alone in their anxiety.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

“Have you no intention of changing your mind, Rhea?” Seteth said sternly, crossing his arms, “Appointing strangers - children no less - as professors at our esteemed academy is-!”

“I have made my decision, Seteth.” Rhea said cooly. “I know worrying comes naturally to you, but there is truly no need. Those ‘strangers’ are Jeralt’s flesh and blood, after all.”

The two of them had pulled away into the room to the side in the audience chamber, an office of sorts for the Archbishop and her right-hand. The doors were closed, large and thick enough so that the others in the Audience Chamber could not hear them. Seteth could not recall how many times he had been in there with Rhea, discussing courses of actions late into the night for many years. He couldn’t begin to count how many times he had spoken to her in this tone as well.

“I can’t say that’s all too comforting. How trustworthy is Jeralt? He went missing after the great fire twenty-one years ago, and we both know he was surely the culprit behind it.” Seteth sighed, exasperated. Why did it take so much to convince Rhea to _ not _do things? “I would remind you that Flayn is now here with us as well. I beg of you, please consider whether this is an unnecessary risk.”

“Seteth, they have my trust.” Rhea smiled as if nothing was wrong in the world, “Let that be enough for you as well.”

At this point, Seteth might as well have been trying to convince a rock to swim.

“More importantly, I have received a report from Shamir. I am increasingly concerned about a matter regarding our suspicious individual. We cannot ignore those who harbor ill will toward the church, especially if they are frequenting Garreg Mach.”

“Yes, that matter is of great importance as well. I shall continue my investigation,” He shook his head, giving into her decisions once again, as he had many times before, “Rhea… for now, I will have faith that you are placing your trust with the utmost care. I pray that nothing occurs to shake that confidence.”

Seteth stood up and left the room, noting the Audience Chamber was empty already. He looked at his hands once again, frowning slightly. Flayn had done an excellent job healing his hands when they had been burnt, but healing magic couldn’t fix everything. Faint scars were left behind, barely noticeable. They weren’t the worst reminders on his body and they would not be the last, but they stung. He didn’t know why exactly, perhaps it was because he could see them easier than the ones on his arms and his back.

Or perhaps it was the guilt.

He wondered why he felt this way now, as he was certain the twins that Jeralt had walked in with were the ones he thought had been dead for years.

And why Rhea was pretending like she had no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EldritchGremlin: MORE SETETH
> 
> HappyBirddi: Lmao also we're uploading every Monday. Next week, we meet the students!


	5. Chapter 4: The First Step

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Four ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ The First Step ⋅ ✦

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

4/23

Great Tree Moon

Imperial Year 1180

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

That night the trio spent the night the room given to Jeralt, but were assured that Byriel and Byleth would be given their own rooms come morning. The trio didn’t mind the somewhat small living place, they had slept in worse conditions and this was better than sleeping in the cart.

Jeralt took the floor for that night, using a spare cot provided at his request, while the twins slept in the single bed provided. Neither said it, but they both knew that it was likely the last time, at least for a while, that they’d all sleep in the same room like this. Byriel, despite joking about having his own room in the past, was unsure just how he should feel about that.

On nights like this, sleep evaded Byriel. He already had insomnia some nights, and tonight was no better. How quickly their lives changed in one day was astonishing to him, and thinking over what was to come when morning came made him want to vomit. At one point, after several hours of staring at the ceiling and window, Byriel sat up and looked around the room; Jeralt was sound asleep from the look of it, and while his sister had her back to him, occasionally he noticed the rise and fall of her chest as an indicator of her being asleep.

_ How they can sleep at all in this place is beyond me. _ Byriel thought to himself, along with the notion that now, very suddenly, the monastery felt more like a prison than a place of worshipping the goddess. Or at least a cage, where they were constantly followed by the eyes of Lady Rhea.

It gave him chills, thinking back to the archbishop and how she watched Byriel and his sister with those all-knowing eyes. Like she knew everything about them just by looking, even more than they themselves knew. Then the fear that Byriel, if he fell asleep, he’d wake up to see those eyes watching over him.

Byriel felt a finger gingerly poke his arm, and he turned to see Byleth staring at him from over her shoulder.

“Nightmare?” She asked. Her voice was heavy with drowsiness.

“I wish. Why are you awake?” Byriel was surprised to see his sister, a notoriously heavy sleeper, awake at a time where the sky was pitch black.

“Couldn’t sleep at all.” She admitted. “Just finally decided to give up. Is dad asleep?”

“He’s either asleep or he’s got some serious allergies from the sound of his breathing.”

Byleth laughed a little, but only for a second before sitting up. They sat there, side by side, the only sound in the room being Jeralt’s occasional snores.

“Did you see how she looked at us? Lady Rhea?” Byriel asked.

“Yeah… she kept looking at us like we were ghosts or something, or… I don’t know what.” Byleth pulled her knees close to her chest, staring off at the wall. “I didn’t realize how much we didn’t know about dad…”

“Everyone has secrets. I’m not surprised.” Byriel admitted, mostly telling the truth. “I’m just mad he never said anything until this point. I mean… he was a knight? I feel that should’ve come up sooner.”

“Maybe he never expected it to come back and never wanted to come back.”

They were quiet. More than anything, they wanted to ask their father everything. Why he hid his past like this and what his old life was like. For so long, it had always felt like Jeralt had been so dismissive about the most troubling parts of their lives. Why he never told them how old they were, why he never talked about their mother or how she died, or why their hearts never beat in their chests. He never answered any of those questions, and always seemed ashamed of those aspects.

Of course, he wasn’t ashamed of his children. They knew he loved them, even if he didn’t show it, and they loved him in return. But he kept a safe distance sometimes… like he was bracing himself in case the two of them suddenly died. Like he expected them to disappear one day. Obviously, that wasn’t the biggest concern for them now.

“What do we do now?” Byleth asked, her voice quiet with uncertainty. “You’re the genius, do you have a plan?”

“For once I don’t,” Byriel felt his chest squeeze from guilt.

Byleth buried her face in her arms, silent. Then after a moment, she asked, “Then what should we do now?”

“We adapt I guess. Not much else we can do.”

Byleth sighed, defeated. “So we’re professors now?”

“It can’t be _ that _ hard. I mean, dad taught us how to read and write and fight. I guess we just have to do the same.”

“We were children though, and we aren’t exactly slow learners, these are nobles.”

“I see no difference between children and nobles,” His sister was quiet, but he could imagine her smiling a little at that comment, “We’ve been in worse scrapes than this, Byleth. We’ve fought bandits, thieves, pirates, the occasional bear and wolf, a raccoon once. I think we can take care of a bunch of students.”

“We’re not fighting the students though, we’re supposed to teach them.”

“How hard can it be? I mean, if they’re asking you to teach they have to have low standards.”

Byleth gave him a look, and he teasingly messed with her already rats nest hairstyle. He felt drained of all energy, and his attempts of trying to make the situation brighter weren’t working as well as he hoped. He leaned his back against the wall behind them. “Can I be straight with you?”

“Since when were you ever straight?”

He laughed weakly but went on. “I don’t have a plan… I don’t know how the hell we’re supposed to guide these students. Now people are going to start looking for us asking for the right answers, and if we fail it could hurt them.”

Byleth watched her brother, her dark eyes almost appearing empty.

“I mean… we’re just us. How the hell are we supposed to be what they all need?”

The two were silent for a long moment, neither knowing what to say. Byleth wished that a dragon from those old fairy tales would bust in and take the trio away. _ How are we supposed to be what they all need? _ Byleth wasn’t the one people went to for answers like that, so the fact it was her brother, the real genius, asking her made her stomach churn.

She sighed and looked back to the window. “I don’t think we can be everything they need. There’s only two of us… and as fantastic as I think we are, we’re still human.”

Byriel watched her as she spoke, her eyes never leaving the window. The sky as it started to show the first hints of daybreak. No longer the color of ink, but indigo slowly changing to lavender.

“We’re just us, but maybe that’s what they need the most? I can’t comprehend it any other way…”

Byriel blinked in surprise. “Huh… that may just have been the wisest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

She gave him a teasing smirk. “Maybe I was born with a little of that brain too.”

“Geez, I was just kidding when I said that. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Byleth stretched out her limbs slowly, pulling herself out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

“The sun should be rising soon. Want to join me?”

Byriel made a face. “Uh, no thanks.”

She frowned. “Why not?”

“I want to catch up on what sleep I missed, but hey, knock yourself out.”

Byleth sighed a bit, “Your loss. I'll just see you at breakfast then.”

As Byriel got settled back into bed, glad to have it all to himself for a little while, Byleth quietly pulled her clothes on while their father still slept soundly. She gave one last look at the room, Byriel turning his back on her and trying to fall back asleep, trying to put this to memory since it may be the last time the trio ever spent the night like this.

Byriel, while he didn’t say it out loud, wanted to convince his frustratingly morning-person of a sister to stay behind and sleep in. Not out of laziness, but because he couldn’t help but worry that if she did leave, she wouldn’t come back. She always did come back though is the thing but in this place? He didn’t know what could happen.

With that, Byleth shut the door quietly and walked down the series of halls and stairs. The monastery was huge but remembering where they had entered made things easier. Going the same way back, Byleth noticed that one way led to a large bridge leading from the heart of the monastery to what she guessed was a cathedral. It was a grand structure, imposing just as regal as the rest of the monastery, but seemingly having an air of calm around it that the rest of the monastery didn’t.

She whistled a small tune as she walked to the middle of the bridge, looking out in the direction where she could see the sun started to peek from behind the horizon. She watched, and then after a beat, she felt the first blade of sunlight strike her face. She blinked a bit, and after letting her eyes adjust she continued to watch the familiar white glow of the sun, ascending higher and higher into the sky.

Watching it all unfold, as slow as it was, it still gave Byleth a little bit of comfort. That no matter how dark the night was, the day always came back in the end. And now, at the beginning of the next, it was time to face the beasts that waited for them.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

When Byriel woke back up for breakfast sometime later, he saw that Jeralt was gone. Already it seemed that he had been given a job to do. Byriel pulled his armor on slowly, while also taking a few of his books with him as he tried, and failed to find the dining hall at a reasonable hour.

Never one for directions, even now.

Thankfully, he did find the bridge where his sister was watching the sunrise while whistling to herself, and the two wordlessly found their way to where breakfast was served. The two were immediately surprised and delighted at the quality of the food they were given. Even though it was just bread and honey with some berries, neither of them had tasted anything so good. The bread was clearly freshly baked, not like the stale loaves they often bought, but fresh and full of rich flavor. Not to say they didn’t know good food, but life as a mercenary didn’t allow them to take the time to make or enjoy good-quality food often.

They were also a little sad to not have Jeralt with them to enjoy it, but he obviously had other things to do. Now they had separate responsibilities, and couldn’t always be together. Still, they both knew they’d miss having breakfast together as a trio.

Byriel made sure to take a few extra pieces of bread with him for later.

After their food was thoroughly enjoyed, the two heard the bells of the monastery ring out eight times. Signaling them to go meet the Archbishop for their first assignment. Neither of them wanted to see her again, especially without Jeralt by their side.

The moment they walked through the doors back to the audience chamber, they felt Rhea’s gaze fall on them. Byriel immediately felt his stomach flip while Byleth felt as if her skin was being pricked at by icy needles.

As they walked into the room, they passed by Alois talking to Seteth. Alois looked to them, smiling broadly, “I imagine you were both a bit surprised that I recommended you as professors here.”

Byriel smiled dryly, “Yes. We were.”

“Frankly, we had someone else in mind for the role, but they ran off during our dustup with the bandits.”

That was new.

“Wait, you had someone else?” Byleth asked, “Who?”

“Aw that doesn’t really matter, we can’t entrust students to someone who’s abandoned them once before, huh?”

Seteth looked over the two, the distrust in his unwavering green eyes was still there but he was much less angry now. “You saved the lives of the students you came across. That, at least, was admirable.”

“We just did what we thought was right,” Byleth mumbled softly, avoiding eye contact and looking at the floor, deciding her shoes were easier to focus on than the green man.

“Regardless, it was an admirable thing to do,” Seteth had to concede at that, “Now, both of you should speak with the Archbishop.”

Byriel gave the man a look.

Seteth made a bit of a face, “It’s best not to keep her waiting, she is rather excited to have you both as professors here. I imagine it must be hard, being in this new place, but she wants to help you get acquainted.”

They both wanted to protest, but the look from the advisor was similar in that finality whenever Jeralt made a decision. Byriel called it ‘the dad look’. Clearly, there was no arguing with him.

Begrudgingly, they approached the Archbishop, whose eyes almost lit up at the sight of them approaching. “Good morning, both of you. I assume you are already aware that you will be teaching here at the Officers Academy. Correct?”

“Right, we know…” Byriel muttered.

“Well, in that case, it is only natural that your first task as professors is to speak with the three house leaders and look around the academy. Become acquainted with your new home. That is all.”

_ This place isn’t my home and it never will be _ , Byriel thought to himself angrily. _ You forced our dad to come here, you’ve trapped us by forcing us to become professors, this place is a prison. The moment you have your back turned, we’re leaving this place- _

Before his angry thought tirade could continue further, Byleth grabbed her brother’s arm and squeezed it in an attempt to be comforting. A small gesture, but one big enough to pull Byriel back to reality.

“We will,” Byleth nodded.

“Excellent, that is all. Be on your way.” Rhea looked over at her advisor. “Seteth, please, show them where the Officers Academy is.”

“Why does _ he _ have to be the one to do that?!” Byriel blurted. Byleth shot her brother a look, and he immediately shut up.

Rhea did not respond to Byriel’s outburst, simply looking at her advisor for an answer. Seteth didn’t seem offended, or, if he was, at least he hid it well. His face kept the usual stoic look but he tugged at his sleeve edges with a troubled air to him. He seemed to be even less thrilled to show them around as they were, but unfortunately for all parties, it was his job to listen to the Archbishop. Byriel admittedly felt a little bad for blurting out, as Seteth actually had to work with this incredibly suspicious woman.

Perhaps they would also take him in their escape with Jeralt. Though he probably would put up a bigger fight.

As Byriel thought out the statistics of this plan, Seteth approached the two briskly. “Well, come along now. We haven’t all day.”

The three made their way from the room, Seteth walking at a fast enough pace where the twins almost had to sprint after him. Clearly, he had other things he wanted to do and needed to be done with it as fast as possible.

“I was kidding about that comment, by the way,” Byriel threw out, as a means of an apology.

Byleth sighed. “You’re such a blockhead.”

“Twins, remember that, blockhead.”

Seteth glanced over at them, “I think one of you is more of a ‘blockhead’ than the other, but I hope you two are competent enough to teach the students. This is a prestigious establishment, after all, several children of nobility attend Garreg Mach and few commoners are able to pay the tuition.”

“They must have low standards if we’re here-”

Before Byriel could even finish the statement, Byleth slammed her fist right into his already tender shoulder. He let out a cry of pain, rubbed at the spot, and glared at her.

“Please, just ignore whatever comes out of his mouth. He’s a moron.” Byleth stated flatly.

Seteth sighed as if reminiscing about his own obnoxious siblings, “Why Lady Rhea has allowed you two to stay here is beyond my comprehension. Not to insult either of you, of course, I still must thank you for saving Dimitri, Edelgard, and Claude. Regardless, even you both must agree it is strange to allow two people she has never met with no teaching credentials to be professors here.”

“Glad to hear someone also thinks it’s weird,” Byriel grumbled.

“Still, I will trust Lady Rhea’s judgment for now. But be warned,” He glared at the two. “She may put her faith in you, but that does not mean I will. I trust her decisions, not yours, and if you two cause any unnecessary trouble there will be severe consequences. Understand?”

Byleth couldn’t help but be reminded of Jeralt whenever he tried to scold them as children. Which, since they rarely caused much trouble, he didn’t often do. She didn’t know whether to laugh or not, especially since there was very little fire behind his warnings. Instead, she nodded. “Understood, we don’t want to make your job any more difficult… right, Byriel?”

Byriel sighed. “Obviously, I mean we’re not _ that _ bad. We don’t start trouble on purpose.”

Seteth stared at them for a moment, then nodded. He still didn’t trust them, but there was no harshness to his gaze. He looked away and continued to walk, his shoulders losing the stressed tension they carried beforehand.

“Good, then we have a mutual understanding. Now then, let us continue.”

The three continued for a short moment before they reached a large hall. Candle-lit chandeliers hung from the ceiling, rows of tables with monks and other students standing and sitting around, and a much more lively atmosphere than the floor above.

“The Officers Academy is to the right at the end of the reception hall here.” Seteth pointed the way. “When you’ve finished speaking with everyone, go back the way we came and speak with Lady Rhea.”

The twins were silent, the familiar sensation of anxiety pulling at their skins. They didn’t want to take a step further, feeling rooted to the spot and helpless.

Seteth wasn’t a mind reader, but from the moment he had met the two he could get the sense that they were afraid. The looks on their faces said it all, they were afraid of meeting new people. Likely, Seteth guessed, they had not interacted with a lot of people usually and developed some sort of weariness of strangers.

His expression softened a bit, and in a rare moment of sincerity, he looked to the two with no trace of impatience. 

“I understand the last few days have been,” He took a moment to find the right word, “Difficult for both of you. And I get the feeling you’re not exactly thrilled to be meeting everyone, them being strangers to you, after all. But you’ll give them lessons every day, so eventually, you will become quite close to your students, and you’ll no longer view them as strangers. It only takes a few baby steps to start, I know you both can do it.”

The twins were shocked to hear that from Seteth, someone who they had previously perceived as someone cold and impatient. 

“That’s a lot of faith to put in us…” Byleth's eyes started to fall to the floor, but Seteth flicked his wrist in a sharp gesture that told her to look at him and not the ground. She did with a jolt, and Seteth looked to both of them with a look of reassurance.

“If Saint Indech could help people despite his shyness, you can as well.”

“Who?” Byriel looked to Seteth, confused about who he was talking about and just as surprised at the man’s sincerity.

“I’ll tell you about him some other time. But for now, you should meet your students.”

And without saying anything more, Seteth walked past them back in the direction of Lady Rhea. Acting like he had said nothing at all.

Again, Byriel thought back to that line about old lives and tragedies. However it went, he thought it fitted the green man. He looked to Byleth, feeling oddly strengthened. And by the look on her face, he guessed she felt the same way.

“Well?” Byriel gave her a smile. “Should we go?”

She nodded. “Right.”

They walked in the direction of the academy, feeling a mix of emotions all at once as they pushed past the doors.

The Officers Academy was smaller than they both thought; three main classrooms lined side by side, looking out into a finely trimmed yard where students lingered about. Lining the classroom doors were the flags of Black Eagles, Blue Lions, and Golden Deer, acting as an indicator for which room belonged to which house. There were dozens of students walking around, making the twins feel out of place and lost.

Byriel, as much as he didn’t want to, spoke the obvious, “We’ll probably cover more ground if we split up.”

“H-Huh?!” Byleth looked to him quickly, eyes wide with panic.

“Byleth, we can’t teach the same house so… so we should probably look on our own, right?” The look of betrayal on his sister’s face hurt more than it should, but even she knew he was right. He was usually right. It didn’t lessen the pain though, the two together were already silent among other mercenaries. Alone? They were practically mute.

Baby steps. That's what Seteth had told them.

Byleth bit the inside of her cheek, wanting to protest and scream at him. But he was right. He almost always was right.

“Then… we’ll meet again at the audience chamber?” Byleth tried smiling, but it almost hurt physically to do so.

Byriel nodded. “Right,”

He took the first step away, feeling like a traitor. But he knew he was right, and that he had to be on his own now that he was a teacher. Byleth knew it too, and as much as it hurts to do it, she did the same. Telling herself that they weren’t separating forever. Or at least, hoping that they’d reunite like always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: Sooo originally we were going to meet the students, but then we got more Seteth being an awesome dad. Next chapter we'll be meeting the students for sure
> 
> EldritchGremlin: Also we changed the tags a bit! We'll keep adding tags as the story goes on. We're currently thinking of putting more of an emphasis on TWSITD to make them more interesting as villains.
> 
> HappyBirddi: We're making Codename: Shitty Clown to replace the actually shittily written clown *airhorn*


	6. Chapter 5: Blue Lions

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Five ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Blue Lions ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ I’ll see you later then. _

Byleth wanted to say those words, but couldn’t. She wanted to say something to ensure that they’d see each other again, but couldn’t figure out exactly what should be said. 

She hated talking sometimes. Words were complicated, confusing, and easy to get wrong. Not like swinging a sword, where you didn’t need to talk about how someone is going to die by it. You just did it, and then you moved on. Heartless, certainly. But unsurprising, she thought, coming from one of the Ashen Demons whose hearts never beat at all.

Here though, she wasn’t a demon. She wasn’t a mercenary here, she was a professor now. Or at least, she had to pretend to be one. Byleth forced herself not to look back until she was halfway across the yard. And when she did look back, Byriel was gone. Immediately, that courage fleeted like the wind and she was compelled to run back. All the way back to Jeralt’s room, or even further than that. All the way to the very north of Faerghus, or further beyond if she could make it. Maybe she could.

Before she could, however, a voice came from not too far and called out, “Oh, it’s you!”

Byleth spun to the source; the blonde-haired prince Dimitri was smiling at her and standing just a few feet away. She didn’t even notice him walk up behind her.

She suddenly felt like a deer in the middle of the road about to be struck by a cart. _ Do I say something? Do I bow? He's a prince, after all. _

She didn't have to, as he suddenly gave a brief bow. “Please accept my apologies for the other day. You came to our aid, yet I hadn’t even the courtesy to properly introduce myself.”

“N-No, it’s fine…” She scanned the area for Byriel. Or somewhere for cover.

“I am Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, crown prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. Of course, at the academy, I am simply a student. And I’ve heard word that you are to become a professor here?”

_ Where the hell is Byriel?! _ “I-I guess…” She still looked around the area for her brother.

“Delightful news! I still have much to learn, but I’m confident I could benefit greatly from your guidance.”

“I-I-” Byleth felt her throat grow dry and crack a bit.

Dimitri, picking up on the distress on her face, looked a little concerned. “Are you alright? You look like you’re in a hurry.”

“U-Um… I shouldn’t be here-”

He looked saddened. “Have I made you feel unwelcomed in any way? I know we’ve only just met but-”

“No, th-that’s not-!” She blurted and then hesitated to speak more. She sighed in defeat, crossing her arms across her chest for a bit of comfort. “I-I’m sorry, I just feel completely lost as to what to do… this is all very new for me. I never thought I’d be asked to teach as a professor.”

Dimitri looked surprised. Then sympathetic. “Oh, I understand… then this must be a bit of an adjustment.”

“A bit, yes…”

The prince thought for a brief moment before smiling again, “Well, you are here now. So I’ll be the first to say that if you need anything, I’d be happy to assist.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I don’t mind, you are to potentially be my professor after all.” He looked determined, and the way he grinned at Byleth gave her a feeling of ease. “In any case, I want to welcome you to the monastery. I’m grateful that someone of your talents is here, truly.”

“Th-Thank you.” Her gaze almost fell to the ground, but she stopped. Forcing herself to keep looking at him.

“I hear you’re investigating the different houses here. Did any of the Blue Lions catch your attention?” Byleth fell silent, which he picked up on and offered, “I could introduce you to all of them if you’d like? If that helps you at all.”

She thought about declining, but the sincerity of this prince pushed her to nod. “I’d appreciate that… ”

Dimitri smiled and nodded. “Excellent, they’re all in the Blue Lion’s classroom right now.”

They started walking towards the room, but then Dimitri stopped and looked to her with an odd look of guilt.

“What is it?”

“Forgive my rudeness, but I don’t believe I’ve caught your name…”

“Oh, that,” She had completely forgotten that. “It’s Byleth, Byleth Eisner… ”

“Byleth Eisner,” He echoed her name. “Very well then, shall we continue?”

“Right.”

The two walked towards the room with the banner of the Blue Lions and standing in the doorway Byleth hesitated for a moment. But then swallowed her fears and took the first step in.

The room was large enough to hold at least thirty or even more students at various tables. There was the head desk at the front and a dark forest green chalkboard that had seen better days with various things drawn on it, and there was a fireplace, lit and emanating a welcoming, almost home-like feeling to Byleth. Students stood around the room, talking to one another or reading various books, not really paying much attention to the two as they stood in the entrance.

The first two people Dimitri and Byleth approached were a smaller boy with silvery hair, bright, lime-colored eyes and a face dotted with freckles next to a much taller and broader man with tanned skin and white hair.

“Hi there!” The smaller boy smiled at Byleth as they approached. “You must be the one everyone’s talking about."

"She is," Dimitri confirmed.

"I-I'm one of them, at least…" Byleth coughed a bit.

"I’m Ashe, great to meet you!” Ashe turned to the taller man. “This here is Dedue, he serves Prince Dimitri.”

The prince nodded. “Dedue was born in Duscur, and has been loyally working in my service for the past four years.”

“Hello,” Byleth blinked in surprise at the man known as Dedue. He was a bit intimidating, to be sure. But she had faced enemies more terrifying than him, the scarier ones being smaller and charismatic, so she didn’t flinch or recoil.

He bowed deeply. “I have heard that you rescued His Highness. Words cannot express my gratitude. Should you ever require my strength, please know that I will hasten to repay this debt.”

Dimitri made a bit of a face, looking a bit awkward himself at the man’s sincerity. Funny, considering how sincere the prince was, and he was being out-sincered by Dedue.

“That’s not-” Byleth scrambled to find a response. “You don’t need to do that…”

“I insist,” Dedue replied sternly.

“Alright… I’ll remember that.”

Byleth fell silent, as well as Dedue. Leaving poor Ashe and Dimitri standing and watching, waiting for a response. It was clear to all witnesses that Byleth and Dedue were terrible conversationalists. Funnily enough, though, she got the sense that they had found common ground, despite not saying anything.

Ashe spoke up again, thankfully breaking the silence, “Anyway, the same goes for me. If you need an archer or anything like that, you can count on me.” He smiled warmly at Byleth.

That put the tension at ease for a moment. “You’re an archer?”

“I am, or at least I’m trying to be one.” He said, a little sadly. “I’m afraid I’m not the best, but I hope we can work together at some point!”

Byleth felt warmth in her still-heart. Along with a desire to protect this boy from everything evil like spiders, wolves, and bitter green vegetables. “I do as well.”

Dimitri and Byleth walked away, Ashe waving goodbye as they did so. Byleth looked at the two with curiosity. “Ashe and Dedue, right?”

“Yes, Ashe is the adoptive son of Lord Lonato of Castle Gaspard, but I hear he was born a commoner. He has an extremely earnest personality, so I’m certain he will approach your lectures with great enthusiasm. As for Dedue, he’s rather taciturn. But once you get to know him, you’ll see he’s a kind and good-natured young man.” 

It was odd to hear Dimitri gush over his friends, but it gave Byleth a sense that he did genuinely care about them. The next two were a young lady with blonde hair tied into a braid and darker, emerald-green eyes talking to a taller, less-friendly looking male student with dark hair pulled back and almond-colored eyes, all the while glaring at the two as they approached.

“Ingrid, Felix,” Dimitri acknowledged the two as they approached. Only to get a sharp look from the man he called Felix.

“Good day, Your Highness.” The woman gave a brief bow. Then she looked at Byleth. “Are you one of the two that saved His Highness?”

“She is,” Dimitri nodded.

The woman, presumably named Ingrid, bowed with all the chivalry of a proper knight. “I have heard all about what you did from Prince Dimitri. As a citizen of Faerghus, I thank you.”

The man, Felix from what Byleth guessed, looked over her. “He also said you’re quite skilled. And he doesn’t just say things like that. I look forward to sparring with you and beating you.”

Dimitri and the woman both looked to Felix sharply. “Felix, there’s no need to-” Dimitri began to lecture.

Byleth narrowed her eyes at Felix, never one to back down from any challenge no matter how small or large, or stupid, it was. “I don’t know, people say I’m quite good… are you sure you want to fight me?”

Provoked, Felix leveled his gaze at her. “Oh? You’re not afraid of me defeating you?”

“I would be, but I never lose.”

Dimitri looked at Byleth with a look of shock. Clearly, he hadn’t expected such a response from the quiet woman, and Felix raised an eyebrow, seemingly intrigued. Maybe even a little excited to have an eager opponent.

“Felix, must you always speak of fighting right away?” The woman shook her head, lecturing him. “You may call me Ingrid, by the way. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Ingrid is Count Galatea’s daughter,” Dimitri explained. “She is also a childhood friend of Felix, myself, and Sylvain.”

Byleth had no idea who Sylvain was, but didn't think to ask for clarification.

“That’s right, I’ve known both of these two for most of my life.” Ingrid looked to the two gentlemen before them. “So I apologize beforehand if they pester you at all.”

“I have a twin brother, I’m used to being pestered,” Byleth stated.

“Ah, so you understand then!” Ingrid smiled warmly at her.

“Yes,” She nodded. “I also apologize on his behalf if Byriel annoys you with his stupidity.”

“Can’t be much worse than Felix, don’t worry.”

Byleth could understand the pain Ingrid described well. And had a feeling she'd grow to like the woman a lot.

Felix, still watching Byleth and seemingly dead set on fighting now, didn’t even acknowledge Dimitri as he explained, “Felix is the heir to House Fraldarius. He’s got a bit of a sharp tongue, but don’t let that fool you. He’s a good guy deep down.”

“Shut up boar, I don’t want you telling my entire life story to someone you don’t even know.” Felix suddenly snapped at Dimitri, who didn’t even look surprised or even insulted.

Byleth, on the other hand, was shocked at the insult. _ Boar? Did he really just say that to his future king? _

“As for you, I won’t go easy on you now that you seem confident that you’ll win. I expect a worthy challenge,” Felix warned Byleth, turning his back on the group, much to Ingrid’s frustration.

“Felix, stop that.” Ingrid lectured.

Clearly the conversation was not going to go anywhere, so Dimitri and Byleth moved on. All the while she could feel Felix’s razor-sharp glare burning into her back.

“He gravitates towards people who are skilled. Perhaps you would enjoy a friendly competition with him sometime.” Dimitri advised.

“Aren’t you upset that he called you that?” Byleth asked.

Dimitri made a face, “The boar nickname? No, I’m used to it.”

That was troublesome to her. Felix didn’t even say it jokingly like how she called Byriel a blockhead. He said it like an insult.

The next person they approached was a young, tall man off on his own with fiery red hair and somewhat pleasant facial features. The moment the two were close enough, the man looked to Byleth and gave a charming smile. “Well, well! It must be my lucky day today, being approached by such a beauty!”

Byleth froze. “H-Huh?”

Dimitri let out a slight groan of frustration, looking embarrassed for Byleth. “Sylvain, please don’t.”

“I-I…” Byleth struggled to talk, feeling her voice die.

“Are you joining our class? If so, it’ll truly be a year to look forward if I get to look at someone as radiant as you every day. I’m Sylvain Jose Gautier, so feel free to say hi whenever you’d like. I’d love to get to know you more.” Then he gave a little wink to Byleth, making her stomach drop and want to hide behind Dimitri for protection.

“Sylvain, stop-” Dimitri began to lecture.

Suddenly from the back, Felix’s voice snapped, “Knock it off, skirt-chaser!”

“What? I’m just trying to welcome our newest presence!” Sylvain called back. “And she’s such a lovely change of scenery as well!

“You say that about every other person that walks in here!”

“Are you jealous of me or something?”

Felix scoffed. “You wish. No, she is going to face me in a duel and I don’t want you giving her any more of a reason to avoid the classroom.”

“You wound me, Felix. The fact you didn’t scare her off with your tongue means something already.”

“Oh, you’re just asking to get your ass kicked. Not after I’ve defeated her in a duel though.”

Sylvain laughed, turning to look at Felix. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous of her!”

Felix’s eyes widened with rage. “Jealous? Of _ her _?! Are you delusional or something?!”

“Do I have to separate you two?” Ingrid scowled at the two.

While his back was turned Dimitri ushered Byleth to keep moving forward. When they were far enough away, Dimitri sighed. “Sylvain is the heir to House Gautier. He is a capable person who highly values his friends. That said…”

Byleth stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

“Well, he’s always been a bit of a…” Dimitri cleared his throat. “Skirt-chaser, so to speak. Pardon my bluntness, I speak with him about it often, but it doesn’t seem to help. Let’s continue, shall we?”

Byleth nodded, sticking a little closer to Dimitri’s side.

The last two in the room were two young women; one with silvery rose-like hair and pale lavender eyes, and the other a little shorter with bright coppery hair and blue eyes.

“Hello, Dimitri!” The rose-haired woman called.

“Good day Mercedes, Annette,” Dimitri greeted them warmly.

The woman looked to Byleth. “And who’s this? You don’t look familiar at all. Do you work here at the monastery?”

“Oh, Mercie!” The other girl gasped a bit. “Do you think this is that mercenary everyone has been talking about?”

“She is,” Dimitri confirmed. “I’m introducing her to everyone in the Blue Lion class.”

“Now that I think about it, that does sound like something you may have said.” The woman, Mercedes it seemed, nodded and smiled gently.

Dimitri laughed, a little awkward. “I-I did say that, actually… ”

“I suppose you’ll be enrolling at the Officers Academy too, then?”

“You could say that…” Byleth tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Mercedes, and this is my best friend-”

The other girl spoke up, eager. “I’m Annette! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too.” Byleth smiled a little.

Mercedes looked to Byleth’s arm and asked, with a look of concern, “Oh dear, what happened to your arm there?”

Byleth looked to her upper arm; a large bruise had formed over the spot where the bandit that struck her the day before yesterday. Though obviously, Byriel had healed the cut, he could only stop the bleeding and not the bruising that came after. He was still somewhat new to healing magic, after all. “O-Oh… that must’ve been from the ambush on the road… I didn’t even notice.”

Dimitri gave her a look of concern at the injury. “Wait, an ambush? When did this happen?”

Byleth sighed, “The day before the attack yesterday.”

“Another attack?!”

“It’s been a rough few days.”

Dimitri looked baffled at the realization of how dangerous the roads apparently were, and his expression almost made Byleth burst out laughing.

Mercedes frowned, looking concerned. “Well, would you like me to heal that for you?”

“What?” Byleth was surprised. Only Byriel was allowed to heal her wounds. But, feeling a sense of kindness coming from Mercedes, Byleth nodded.

“Hold still, just for a moment.”

“Alright…” Byleth did as asked, and Mercedes ran a gentle thumb over the bruise. She felt the familiar sensation of healing magic, but it was different from whenever Byriel healed an injury. No stiffness or an extremely itchy feeling was left at all. The bruise began to fade, not completely disappearing but looking a lot better than the deep purple it had been previously. 

“There you go, all better!” Mercedes smiled as Byleth moved her arm around in amazement. “Make sure to take care of yourself, alright?”

Byleth felt her cheeks burn from embarrassment. “I-I will, thank you.”

“That’s Mercie for you! She’s amazing at that, isn’t she?” Annette smiled widely.

“Y-Yeah, it really is.”

“I keep asking her to teach me how to do that kind of healing magic, maybe we can learn together!”

“I’m… I’m not that good with magic…” Byleth admitted. “I’m better suited to a sword.” She could suddenly feel Felix staring at her again, and resisted the urge to turn around.

“Swords? That’s so amazing!” Annette looked at Byleth like she was looking at a living legend. “I’ll have to watch you sometime! Will you let me watch?”

“S-Sure.”

“Great!” Annette cheered. “Then we can get sweets afterward! Do you like sweets?”

Byleth blinked, a little speechless. “I-I do, but I never really had the time or money to have them.”

Annette gasped a bit but then nodded in determination. “Alright then, that’ll be the first thing we do! Mercie makes the best sweets, fair warning. You might not want anyone else’s after you try hers!”

Byleth had no idea how to react to the sudden onslaught of kindness. All while Dimitri patiently stood by and observed, seemingly happy for Byleth’s growing popularity.

Mercedes laughed lightly. “Anyway, it’s very nice to meet you. I hope we’ll get along well.”

“I appreciate it.” Byleth felt the ghost of a smile pull at her lips. “I hope we get along too.”

Dimitri and Byleth said their goodbyes and walked back to the yard. The moment they were outside, Byleth huffed a small laugh. “They seem so nice,”

The prince smiled. “They really are. Mercedes was born to Imperial nobility, or so I’ve heard, but a twist of fate brought her to the Kingdom. She may seem carefree on the surface, but she’s a very kind soul who pays careful attention to everyone around her. Her healing magic is second-to-none.”

Byleth ran a hand over the spot where Mercedes had erased the bruise on her arm. “I can tell…”

“And Annette is Baron Dominic’s niece, she’s a talented student who scored extremely high marks on the Royal School of Sorcery. She’s cheerful and hardworking. Brilliant, really. Though she can be a bit oblivious at times.” Dimitri grimaced a little. “I heard she caused an explosion in the kitchen last night…”

Byleth choked on a laugh, which made Dimitri himself laugh a little. She felt bad that she didn’t know the specifics of every one of their histories. She made a promise to herself that, at some point, she would look further into their connections and lives. If anything, to put significant names and titles where they needed to be.

“And that’s pretty much everyone in Blue Lions.”

She was surprised. Not as big of a class as she thought. And yet, she hadn’t met someone she disliked. Even Sylvain and his flirtation or Felix and his cold-nature, she couldn’t bring herself to distrust or hate a single one of them. She felt welcomed by every one of them.

Then she realized something and turned to the prince. “What about you? You're the house leader, after all.”

He looked suddenly self-conscious. “Me? Oh, um… please forgive me, it’s difficult to open up on the spot, don’t you think?”

She watched him quietly, wanting him to go on. He made a face and held his hands together.

“I’m afraid my story has not been a pleasant one…” He admitted, almost ashamed. “I do hope that doesn’t color your view of me, but I understand if that can’t be helped.”

Byleth felt her chest squeeze a bit in sympathy. She had seen him on the battlefield the day before, and she was surprised to see how ruthless he could fight. It was almost like looking at two different people. Still, what kind of darkness could this prince be carrying? He seemed so kind and sincere, it was difficult to imagine anything wrong with him. But she supposed that looks could be very deceiving. Or maybe she was overthinking it all?

She smiled a bit, in an attempt of being reassuring. “I don’t usually let people’s pasts cloud my judgment of them in the present. Besides, we all carry our tragedies. I most certainly do. Some simply hide them better than others. If I went around frowning upon everyone who committed some kind of wrong in their lives, I’d never smile. I… I suppose I like to believe in the good rather than the bad in people.”

Dimitri looked surprised at her response, staring at her with wide eyes. She guessed he didn’t expect her to say something like that.

“Besides, I would’ve already run away if you hadn’t aided me. So for now, I view you as a sincere and very kind-hearted gentleman.”

He laughed, his cheeks having a slight rose-tint to them. “Th-That’s very generous of you to say about me, professor. But I think you would’ve been fine without me.”

She shook her head, making a face. “I’m better suited to the battlefield than a school.”

“I don’t think that of you, not after you met and talked with everyone. I believe you’ll be a fantastic professor, even if you don’t choose the Blue Lions house."

The two were quiet, the conversation drawing closer and closer to an end. She didn’t want it to stop though, she felt comfortable talking around the sincere prince. But alas, she had other things to do and other houses to see.

“Well, I should scout out the rest of the houses.”

Dimitri nodded, looking a little sad to see her go. “I understand. I hope you do alright, professor.”

“I think I’ll be alright now. Thank you again, for everything. Not just introducing me, but also…”

“Hm?” He looked confused.

Byleth cleared her throat. “Yesterday, when we were fighting the bandits and I tripped. I would’ve probably been killed, or at least severely injured if you hadn’t come in like you did… so thank you for that.”

“Oh, that? Of course, it was the least I could do for you after you and your brother came to our aide.” He gave her a warm smile and a short, but proper bow. “I hope to see you again, professor.”

It felt funny to Byleth the way Dimitri talked to her. She had grown up with her brother and father and had learned to adopt their tougher behaviors. Being around hardened mercenaries, there was little room for being delicate or being treated with manners. You simply did your part and kept up with the rest of them. So for the prince to act so gentleman-like to her, it was a shock. She didn’t think people really acted like that, only in fairy tales. But she had been proven wrong.

And with that, the two departed. As Byleth walked to the direction of the Black Eagle house, she couldn’t help but look back at the Blue Lion flag for a long moment before doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EldritchGremlin: Happy Halloween everyone! We gave you two chapters this week and we will be updating every Monday from now on! Also HappyBirddi wrote a wonderful scene featuring Timeskip Dimitri and Byleth, same Byleth from this fanfic. The scene will be featured later in this story :>
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168740
> 
> HappyBirddi: I was inspired by one of my favorite scenes in NieR: Automata, and I was sobbing so much while writing it T^T Happy Halloween everyone, stay safe out there!


	7. Chapter 6: Golden Deer

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Five ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Golden Deer ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ I know it was my idea… but I’m suddenly having regrets. _ Byriel immediately thought that the moment his sister walked away. At least, if she was around, he could have the courage to speak for both of them. They were both so painfully quiet on their own, at least when they were together, even if they were bickering, they still could talk.

Byriel walked a little down the stone path, his original goal was to make it to the Black Eagle house first. But the further he walked, the more unsure he was about going anywhere. He just wanted to crawl back into bed, and never leave it again.

He didn’t get far before he ultimately came to a stop right next to the Golden Deer flag, feeling lost and alone. Now he wished he hadn’t suggested going separate, because as awkward as his sister could be, Byleth at least helped ease a lot of Byriel’s nerves when dealing with social conversation. He felt completely useless without his other half.

He looked into the Golden Deer classroom, unsure if he should go in or not. There were students all talking amongst each other, not even really seeing him.

Byriel was about to walk away, but as he started to walk away he almost stepped right into a girl who had walked into his path.

He recoiled, but she backed away as if Byriel was on fire and dropped something on the ground. “I-I’m so sorry-” She stuttered out an apology, her shoulders shrinking in on herself.

“Don’t apologize, I wasn’t paying attention.” Byriel got a look at the girl; she had light blue hair pulled back into a complex braided updo, and dark brown eyes lined with dark circles. An aura of despair and depression radiated around her like a fog that immediately made Byriel automatically feel sad for her.

Byriel quickly spotted what she had dropped, a small cloth bundle, and scooped it up. It felt light, and the scent was recognizable to Byriel as the bread from the dining hall.

“Sorry, I made you drop your lunch.” He frowned, feeling more guilty.

The girl was silent, then she huddled within herself. “I-I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. I can get you some new bread if you want.”

She hesitated. “I-It’s… it’s for the birds…”

“Birds?” Byriel turned around and saw a small flock of birds gathered around a small, isolated area of the yard. “Those birds?”

“I-I should go,” She started to walk away.

“Well, wait.” Byriel reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the pieces of bread he had taken with him from the dining hall. The girl stopped before she could go past him, and looked at him with a look of confusion.

Byriel tried smiling. “More bread for your birds.”

The girl looked at him, a faint expression of shock on her face. “Y-You, um…”

“Go ahead, I don’t need it.”

She hesitated, but Byriel held his arm out steadily. Then after a moment, long enough for his arm to feel slightly tired, the girl reached out and took the bread from him.

“Th-Thank you,”

He nodded and watched her walk carefully to the flock of birds. She knelt, and carefully tore off small chunks of the bread and threw it into the group. The various white and grey birds immediately surrounded the area and started to peck at the ground.

Byriel couldn’t help but walk a little closer and watch. The girl gave him a weary look, but thankfully she didn’t run away. He pulled out the last slice of bread he had taken with him, put a few crumbs in his hand, and waited patiently.

Sure enough, as he had done this a few times before, a bird eventually got brave enough to walk up to Byriel and peck at the crumbs in his hand. It hurt a little, but Byriel didn’t mind the pain. He had felt worse pains, after all.

The girl had been watching him the whole time quietly, appearing a little surprised. “How… how did you do that so quickly?”

“I don’t know, animals like me sometimes I guess.” He shrugged as the bird hopped off to eat the rest of the crumbs on the ground. “Fine with me, really. Animals don’t say a lot, and neither do I so we have that in common.”

The girl watched him silently, but she nodded. “I understand…”

They fell silent, which felt a little awkward. But with the birds in front of them working as a distraction, it was nice to just have that instead of him walking around lost and alone.

“I’ve never seen you before. Ah, I’m sorry. That was rude… I-I should-”

“No, it’s fine,” He tried to reassure her before she could run away. “I actually just got here yesterday, so you wouldn’t know me anyway.”

“O-Oh… I see.”

More silence fell over the two, and Byriel cleared his throat a little. “I’m Byriel, by the way. Byriel Eisner.”

The girl looked at him again. “Byriel… I see. You’re very good with the birds, Byriel.”

“Thanks, you are too. You must really like animals too then.”

She gave a ghost of a smile and nodded a little. “I love them…”

The two sat and watched the birds for a while longer, Byriel completely forgetting that he was supposed to be doing something else. After the chaos of the last two days, it was nice to just have a moment of quiet. Plus, given how quiet the girl was, Byriel figured that she would appreciate the silence over constant chatter.

“Marianne.”

“Hm?” Byriel glanced over at the girl briefly. “Marianne?”

“That’s my name… sorry.”

Byriel blinked, “No, that’s nothing to apologize for. It’s nice to meet you, Marianne.”

She gave a stiff nod, but at least she wasn’t cowering in fear now.

Eventually, he knew he had to get up. He did so slowly, so as not to startle the birds. “I’m going to go look around some of the classrooms. But maybe I will see you around some time and we can feed the birds more. If that’s alright with you, anyway.”

Marianne looked to one of the birds. “What do you think? Is that alright with you?”

The birds didn’t respond, obviously, but Byriel talked to himself so who was he to judge? It was actually kind of cute that she talked to them.

“That’s fine… they like you a lot, and say thank you for the bread.”

_ That’s adorable. _ Byriel smiled a little. “Well, tell them that they’re very welcome. I’ll see you again hopefully, Marianne. You and the birds.”

Marianne smiled a little again before turning back to the birds, and Byriel walked away feeling a little better than he had been before.

As he walked back the way he came, immediately Byriel saw Claude standing by a pillar with his jaw slack with surprise.

“What?”

“You actually got Marianne to talk.”

Byriel made a face. “Is that rare or something?”

“Well, yeah. All I know is that she is Margrave Edmund’s daughter, and we’re in the same class. She doesn’t interact much with other students, so I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of folks here have never even heard her speak. And yet, you got her to talk…” He smiled, impressed. “You’re certainly a strange one.”

_ Is it really that strange to just feed some birds some bread and not say anything? Sometimes silence is just as effective as words can be. _

“Anyway, I heard you scored a teaching gig here. Talk about a great first impression.”

Byriel felt his guts squeeze in anxiety again, being suddenly reminded of what he was originally doing. “Right.”

“I guess that means I’d better introduce myself properly. I’m Claude von Riegan. And you are?”

“Done with everything here.”

Claude laughed a bit. “Nice to finally learn your name ‘done-with-everything-here’, a bit of a long name don’t you think?”

Byriel rolled his eyes at such a terrible joke. One he was very familiar with, thanks to Jeralt and his horrible sense of humor. “It’s Byriel.”

“Not demon?”

“That’s just our mercenary nickname, my name is Byriel and my sister is Byleth.”

Claude nodded. “Well, glad to finally put a proper name to the person who took down that bandit for me yesterday. Still, you never did answer my question on whether you were human or not.”

Byriel shrugged.

“I guess we can figure that out later. Anyway, I’m from the ruling house of the Leicester Alliance, but don’t worry too much about all that madness.”

Frankly, Byriel didn’t know a lot about the Leicester Alliance. The politics were too complicated to wrap his head around, at least with what little he knew about the Alliance, but to think that the young man that stood before him was supposed to be their sovereign duke was… surreal. He didn’t seem much like a duke, not like how Edelgard was someone he could picture as an Emperor and Dimitri as a king.

Plus how could this noble _ not _ be worried about something as messy and likely cutthroat as an alliance of nobles?

“I’m guessing you don’t know which class you’ll be teaching yet, do you?” Claude asked, bringing Byriel back to reality.

“It’s a work in progress.”

“I bet you’d like the Golden Deer house. We’re not as…” Claude struggled to find the right words. “Difficult, as the other two.”

“So you’re lazy?”

“Not lazy, just not as difficult.”

Byriel thought about walking away, and maybe throwing another ball of fire at the noble while he did so. But he was curious, admittedly. More so, he was weirdly curious to learn about this strange noble. And even more curious as to who the Golden Deer were.

“Alright then, Claude von Riegan, let’s start with you.”

A somewhat mischievous smile spread across Claude’s face. “Piqued your interest, have I? As luck would have it, I’m pretty curious about you as well. But what’s life without a bit of mystery? Let’s just spend the year or so learning about each other, little by little. You’ll just have to join Golden Deer to learn more about me.”

Byriel frowned. _ So much for that. _ “Okay then, so besides you and Marianne, who else is there?”

“Want me to introduce you?” Claude offered.

Byriel felt his insides cringe again, and he thought again about running away. But he had to adapt, he knew that he had to. “Lead the way.”

“Great!”

Claude turned and started walking towards the Golden Deer classroom with Byriel following behind. It wasn’t too far of a walk, only about ten feet, and the first person that Byriel noticed was a girl with bright pink twin-tail hair standing around aimlessly and looking bored.

“Well, if it isn’t Hilda! Nice to see you awake before noon!” Claude mused as they got closer.

The girl, Hilda, looked over at Claude and said, “I'd say the same but I much prefer seeing you at night when it's too dark."

Byriel smirked a bit. "Good one."

"Who's this?"

Claude gave a shrug at the friendly insult, “This is the mercenary who saved my life, Byriel.”

The mercenary in question tilted his head to the side, “I’m not the only mercenary who helped you, my sister and dad were there too.”

“Yeah, but you’re the one who threw the fireball. Gotta say you have pretty good aim. I’m really lucky that you knew which one was the bandit.”

“You’re wearing bright yellow and he had a blade, it was easy to distinguish.”

Hilda gave a cheery smile, “Ohhh, so _ you’re _ the mercenary. Everyone’s been talking about you. I’m Hilda Valentine Goneril.”

Byriel nodded. Claude leaned in close to Byriel’s ear from behind, keeping his voice down, “Hilda is the only daughter of Duke Goneril. It seems her father and brother coddle her quite a bit. If you look up ‘lazy’ in the dictionary… well, her picture won’t be there because she never got around to submitting it. Not too unusual for a noble, I guess.”

Hilda happily continued, “So are you joining the Knights of Seiros or something? Well, whatever you do, I look forward to seeing more of you!”

Claude gave a smile, “What about me, Hilda?”

“Hmm,” She tilted her head to the side, “I’m not sure yet, Claude. You’re a hard guy to grasp.”

“I’m not, I’d let you grasp me any day. My heart, my hand, even my neck.”

Byriel felt a little lost in the conversation, thus he decided to start walking again. Claude quickly noticed and jogged up to him, matching his speed once again. Hilda, surprisingly, followed him as well, as if curious to see more of the mercenary.

“Hey, don’t wander off without me,” Claude gave him a wink.

“I want to meet everyone else.”

“Ohh? Is that enthusiasm I sense?”

“No,” Byriel couldn’t help but make a face, “Just curiosity. Anyway, who’s next?”

Claude thought for a moment and glanced around the room, his green eyes looking for a student or two to talk to. Byriel hadn’t noticed his eyes before, they were as green as the sea and just as captivating and deep. Secrets laid beyond their intimidating depths, too many to count already and he had only known Claude for a day or two. Regardless, Byriel had always felt the intoxicating need to know everything, which is what had led him down the path of learning magic. Claude was a different kind of endeavor, but he wanted to get to know him better.

To uncover the truth of him.

“Is _ this _ the renowned mercenary that saved you, Claude?” A chiding and somewhat grating voice called to the group.

The three turned in the direction of the voice to see a sharp-featured, somewhat lanky and extremely arrogant-looking man with violet-colored hair cut into a helmet shape on his head.

Claude made a tight-lipped smile. “Ah, I was wondering when you’d show up, Lorenz.”

Lorenz gave a look to the house leader similar to one that Byriel often made at spiders before he slammed a book on them. “I know you’re scheming something, Claude.”

“Aren’t I always though?”

Byriel had a strong feeling Claude was being truthful with that statement.

Then Lorenz gave a sympathetic look to Byriel. “Honestly, you should not have troubled yourself over the likes of him. My name is Lorenz Hellman Gloucester, you will want to remember it.”

The name had no significance to Byriel whatsoever, and it must’ve been obvious because Lorenz’s face fell very quickly.

“Don’t be so obnoxious to the guy who, apparently, lit a guy on fire from really far away.” Hilda threw in. “He might set you on fire next.”

_ As tempting as that is, I think that’s some kind of rule violation. Maybe. _

“Oh? So you fancy yourself a magic-user?” Lorenz arched a thin eyebrow. “Where were you taught?”

“Myself in the cart we travel around in?”

That made the purple man’s features morph into shock. “You taught yourself?! Preposterous!”

“Oh, he’s serious,” Claude smirked widely, feeding into the statement. “I saw it with my own eyes. He’s clearly a gifted sorcerer! He burned a man to death with a wave of his hand!”

“It was just a fire spell…” Byriel’s voice shrank a bit in volume.

Lorenz seemed, if anything, curious. Then he seemed to come to a decision. “Well, I don’t trust the likes of Claude, but I’m not one to gloss over someone of your status with a desire to learn. Lucky for you, I happen to be quite gifted with magic myself. I would be more than willing to take time out of my schedule to offer my knowledge.”

Byriel squinted at the noble, trying to discern if he was being insulting or genuinely helpful. Claude looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh, knowing well that Lorenz had just told his potential future professor that he sucked at magic.

Still, Byriel was curious if he was knowledgeable as he claimed to be. “Okay, how do you aim Fire so it doesn’t go off course?”

Lorenz looked at Byriel like he was a poor, starving orphan. “You poor thing. I find it best to gather the energy needed while aiming instead of aiming and then casting. Magic, as you may not know, is one of those temperamental things that you have to have to put your entire being into casting. As the rule goes, it’s all or nothing. There is no half-way unless you want a rebound.”

Byriel was actually surprised. Those were the exact words from the book Byriel had read the other day while the family trio was arguing over directions. 

Lorenz looked quite pleased with himself at the look of perplexion on the mercenary’s face while Claude looked at Byriel with a look of surprise. Byriel assumed that Claude hadn’t realized just how new to magic Byriel was.

“Well, those are my tips anyway. I’d be more than willing to teach you more. I was a student at one of the finest schools of sorcery, after all.”

Byriel nodded. “I’ll remember that. Uh… thanks, I guess.”

“Ugh, magic makes my head hurt.” Hilda rolled her eyes. 

Lorenz looked to Hilda. “I’d be willing to explain it better to you. For a delicate flower such as yourself, I imagine it must be terribly confusing.”

“No, I just think it’s more effective to just hit something with an axe. Let’s move on, c’mon.” Hilda walked away, not paying the purple man any more attention.

Claude pulled Byriel away before Lorenz could start preaching again about his noble obligations. When they were far enough away, the house leader sighed. 

“If you haven’t picked up on it, he’s a bit arrogant and fancies himself a lady’s man.”

“What? No, I wouldn’t be able to tell,” Byriel stated sarcastically, “But the lady’s man thing, I would’ve never been able to guess.”

Hilda gave a sweet laugh. “He thinks he is. It makes it easier to get him to help me with things.”

_ Ah, the weakest link. _

“Okay, deep down I’m sure he’s very devoted and honest,” Claude tried in vain to defend the noble but gave up. “Though yeah, I wouldn’t mind him never talking about his ‘noble obligations’ ever again.”

Byriel shrugged. Lorenz, while arrogant, did seem somewhat genuine. He guessed that the noble’s mindset was that the world revolved around him, so it was his job to make sure that it was taken care of.

The next people they approached were a smaller boy and girl. The girl stood out first to Byriel due to her shock of long, silvery hair and bright pink eyes. The boy, smaller in stature, had neatly cut short hair and wide brown eyes hidden behind round eyeglasses.

“So you’re the skilled mercenary who saved Claude, are you?” The girl asked.

“One of them.”

The boy’s face morphed into surprise. “Oh, you are? It’s such an honor to meet you!”

Byriel nodded. “Same here.”

Then the boy stuck out his arm to Byriel. “I-Ignatz Victor. My parents are Alliance merchants.”

Byriel stared at the boy’s outstretched hand with a sort of confusion. Mercenaries didn’t shake hands often, if at all. So awkwardly, Byriel took the boy’s hand and almost crushed it with a little too much strength shaking it. Claude and Hilda laughed a little, and thankfully Ignatz didn’t take offense to Byriel’s gesture. Though, he did shake out his hand in an attempt to get rid of the pain after the mercenary released his appendage from his iron-grip.

“And I am Lysithea von Ordelia.” The girl added quickly. “Please, do not forget it. Is it true what Claude was saying? How you saved him with fire?”

_ I’m probably going to forget all of these freaking names. _ “It was a lucky shot if anything.”

“That’s still amazing!” Ignatz praised. “He also talked about how you saved Edelgard so quickly!”

“Oh, that?” Byriel had almost forgotten about it entirely. “I got lucky…?”

Claude laughed and patted the back of Byriel’s shoulder. “Don’t act all modest, what you did was unlike anything I’ve seen before!”

Hilda frowned. “I haven’t seen you fight before, so I’m not going to believe a word until I see it for myself.”

“Plenty of time for that, we have a whole year after all,” Claude mused.

Lysithea looked to Byriel curiously. “I’m curious myself, you’ll have to show me as well.”

“I-If you don’t mind, could I as well?” Ignatz asked timidly.

Byriel was feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I don’t mind, but it’s really not that special. I mean, I don’t mind but I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

Hilda smiled at him. “Don’t worry, the bar’s already pretty low when we have someone like Claude.”

“Hardy har har,” Claude turned to Hilda. “Some talk from a supposed ‘delicate flower’.”

“Um, I _ am _ a delicate flower thank you.”

“You’re about as delicate as a sledgehammer.”

“And a sledgehammer is more likely to get laid than you.”

Claude went silent, narrowed his eyes at Hilda, and scoffed. “Well played.”

It took all of Byriel’s willpower not to burst out laughing.

Ignatz cleared his throat a little. “A-Anyway, I would like to watch you fight at least once. I hope to become a knight one day, and I’d love to watch someone as skilled as you.”

Byriel looked at the small merchant boy; he didn’t strike Byriel as the ‘knightly’ type. He seemed so fragile like a sneeze would blow him to pieces. Still, maybe there was potential underneath?

“I can do that.” Byriel tilted his head a bit. “A knight, right?”

“Yes,” He nodded. “That is what I’m trying to become.”

“Well, I’ll help you as much as you want. I also know sword fighting, and my sister is also really skilled.”

Ignatz smiled politely. “I’ll remember that. Thank you, that’s really reassuring to hear from someone as amazing as you.”

“Ah, Claude is probably giving me more credit than I deserve. Both in terms of magic and my normal sword fighting skills.”

Lysithea shook her head. “I’m sure you’re as amazing as he says. I use magic myself, so I’ll be curious to watch you in battle.” She gave a little smile to Byriel for reassurance, and the mercenary couldn’t help but sense some kind of powerful energy that came from her. Maybe he was imagining it, or maybe she was a lot stronger than he thought. Just how much power was in this small girl?

He nodded back, appreciating her words. “Maybe we can both learn something?”

Her smile widened. “Maybe! I’d love to talk about it later. Over tea and cake maybe?” She asked, hopeful.

Byriel thought for a moment. “Huh… I don’t think I’ve had cake in years.”

Lysithea looked shocked. “Really?”

“I guess I never had the time to enjoy it.”

“Then it’s settled then, we will have to meet for cake as soon as possible!” She paused and blushed a bit. “O-Of course, we’ll also discuss important things like magic and formulas while we’re at it. Agreed?”

Byriel smiled a little. He liked this girl, she reminded him a little of Byleth when they were younger. In fact, she looked very young compared to the rest of the students. Still, she had a mature aura about her that surpassed even Byriel himself.

Claude stepped next to him. “Glad you and princess are getting along well, but we should start going.”

Byriel blinked. “Huh? Princess?”

Lysithea turned on Claude, furious. “Ugh, the audacity! Claude, do not call me that!”

He laughed a bit, pulling Byriel away with Hilda close beside. All while Lysithea glared at him. 

As they walked away, Claude continued on his introductions, “Lysithea is the daughter of Count Ordelia, and is probably the youngest student here. Not just in our class, but in the academy.”

“I figured that much,” Byriel made a face.

“But watch out, she gets angry if you treat her like a child.”

Hilda smacked him on the shoulder. “Oh, so you’re allowed to?”

“I do it on purpose. You have to make your own fun in this place, you know? You get it, right?” Claude looked at Byriel. “I mean, you seem to tease your sister a bit.”

“Well, I’m the only one who’s allowed to, so yeah. It’s a law somewhere I think.”

Hilda looked curious. “Where is your sister anyway?”

Byriel felt a bit worried thinking that she might’ve possibly run off somewhere to hide. “I think, or at least hope, she’s somewhere close.”

“Oh yeah, you two are twins, right?” Claude asked.

“We are.”

Hilda looked amazed. “Wow, you're really twins? I’ve never met one! So can you feel each other’s pain or something?”

“Our allergies startup at the same time.”

Claude laughed again while Hilda made a face. “Aw, that’s boring.”

“If I start feeling her pain, you’ll be the first one I tell, Hilda.”

The three moved on towards the last two people of note; a broad young man with large muscles and a mess of blonde hair, and a smaller girl with short cut orange hair who looked at Byriel with a smile.

“Are you someone’s guest?” The burly man asked. “The dining hall’s that way if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I already ate.”

The girl shook her head. “No, Raphael. That’s Captain Jeralt’s kid, Byriel.”

Byriel froze and got a good look at the girl. It was… foggy, but he remembered vaguely that girl’s face. Along with memories of running through pine forests, throwing rocks at a river, and fending off that one damn raccoon.

Claude gave the mercenary a questioning look. “Wait, do you know her?”

“Yes,” He blinked, “Leonie?”

Her smile widened. “Yup, Captain Jeralt’s first and greatest apprentice! I knew it was you the moment you walked through the door, you haven’t changed much since the last time I saw you!”

Byriel made a face, highly concerned since the last time they met they were kids.

Claude blinked. “Well, makes my job easier.”

The burly man got a friendly smile on his face. “Nice to meet you! I’m Raphael Kirsten… who are you again?”

“Byriel?”

“Right, right! You’re a mercenary right? You must be really strong! Show us your biceps!”

Byriel covered his arms instinctively. “I’d rather not.”

“Well, you certainly have more muscles than the last time I saw you,” Leonie commented. “What about Byleth?”

“She’s probably hiding somewhere.”

Leonie sighed. “You two really haven’t changed…”

Claude looked to Leonie with a curious expression. “So you two have met each other before then?”

“When we were kids, yes. It was for a short time, but we knew each other.” She gave Byriel a look. “I’m still going to outshine you, by the way. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten.”

That part Byriel remembered quite well. He smirked. “Oh, I hope you haven’t forgotten, because I’m still going to destroy you.”

“Ha, I’d love to see you try.” She smirked back. “String bean.”

“Blockhead.”

They both laughed a bit, and the last bit of unease and tension left the air.

“Aw, that’s so cute.” Hilda gushed.

“This is so cool! You’re friends with a famous mercenary!” Raphael cheered. “Hey, maybe we can all go eat together! The meat is the best in the kitchen!”

Byriel thought about it and nodded. “That’d be great, but I have to see the other two houses first.”

“What? I haven’t convinced you yet?” Claude asked in mock offense.

“We’re the best house though!” Hilda whined. “They should fear us, because of how good we are!”

Byriel took another glance around the room; not exactly the most intimidating bunch he had ever seen. He had probably fought off spiders that were scarier than the lot of them. But oddly enough, he actually liked them all. Even Lorenz and his helmet hair and arrogance.

“Maybe if he sees how much the other houses suck, he’ll come back,” Hilda suggested.

Byriel shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

“It’s his choice, guys.” Leonie pointed out.

“Fair,” Claude shrugged. “Alright, sorry but I gotta steal him for a moment. See ya.”

Leonie, Raphael, and Hilda said their goodbyes as Byriel followed Claude back out the doors to the yard. When they were outside the doors, Claude looked back to the mercenary with a look of questioning.

“So, what do you think? They’re a bit rowdy, but I still think they’re pretty great. What about you?”

“... I liked them.” Byriel smiled a little.

“Have I convinced you yet?”

“I still need to see the other houses.”

“Damn it.” Claude sighed. “Fair enough, I can’t force you after all. But I hope you’ll at least consider it.” He started to turn to walk away.

“Now wait a moment.”

Claude looked a little surprised at his sudden words, “What?”

Byriel couldn’t help but pout, “_ You’re _ the one who said I should join to learn more about you, but you’re the one who’s begging _ me _ to be your professor.”

Claude’s face was absolutely priceless. He looked completely dumbfounded for a moment, but then quickly regained composure. “W-Well, it looks like you’re not as oblivious as I thought you were.”

“So tell me, Claude von Riegan,” Byriel walked up to him, “You _ want _me to know you better, don’t you?”

Claude gave a laugh, “Maybe, what game do you think we’re playing?”

“I don’t know, but it’s your turn. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

And Byriel quickly ran off, not giving Claude a chance to respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EldritchGremlin: Whoops we're uploading this Monday night, we were almost late! Hilda turned out sassier than we thought... Also confirmed, if there was a Buzzfeed Unsolved AU, Byleth would be Ryan and Byriel would be Shane
> 
> HappyBirddi: Absolutely! Also sorry if the tags are constantly changing, we're just trying to pick which ships we want to make cannon LOL. There are so many good choices XD


	8. Chapter 7: Black Eagles

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Seven ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Black Eagles ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

Byleth stood in front of the Black Eagle classroom, looking at the crimson flag intently. This was Edelgard’s house, students of the Adrestian Empire, and even just standing by the open doorway she couldn’t help but feel that the atmosphere inside was more strict than it had been with Blue Lions.

If she hadn’t been intimidated before, she was now.

Before she could walk in, however, a low voice got so close to her ear that their breath tickled the back of her neck and whispered, “I think Claude really wants me to join Golden Deer.”

She bolted, nearly slamming a fist into her brother’s face in reflex. Thankfully, he had learned his lesson from the last time he did this, and got out of the way right before her hand could collide with his nose.

“Careful! Don’t just go swinging around a loaded weapon like that!” He cried.

“You  _ scared _ me!” Byleth threw back angrily. “What did you think would happen?”

“Exactly, you’re predictable like that. I sure hope you don’t do the same to your students.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed. “What happened to seeing the houses on our own?”

“I did just that, you just so happened to go to Black Eagles the same time I decided I wanted to see them.”

They both looked at the Black Eagle flag and hesitated to go in. Fair, since Edelgard had been somewhat intimidating when they met her. Though they supposed, her being the future Emperor, she had to be.

“Well, I was hoping to find you both eventually.”

The twins turned and were immediately met face-to-face once again with Edelgard walking up to them.

“I-It’s you again,” Byleth stated.

“So you two have accepted teaching positions here?” They both nodded, and surprisingly Edelgard looked a little disappointed. “Pity, I was hoping you would both lend your strengths to the Empire.”

Both twins shuffled a little awkwardly, unsure how to respond to that.

Edelgard smiled a little. “I take no offense. I will just have to convince the two of you to join in the year that is to come.”

That helped ease the awkward tension quite a bit.

“I never properly introduced myself, did I? My name is Edelgard von Hresvelg. I am the princess and heir apparent of the Adrestian Empire.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I wonder if either of you will be tasked with leading the Black Eagles… have you met everyone yet?”

“No,” Byleth admitted. “We were about to, though.”

“Well, might as well. Shall we?”

Without waiting too long for a response, Edelgard walked into the Black Eagles classroom. And, after a brief moment of hesitation, the twins followed. The air felt just as strict as it had been outside, in fact, it was more obvious here. Even the students in this room seemed to carry themselves less like students and more like soldiers.

As Edelgard entered the room, a tall man with dark hair, very gaunt features, and a rather intimidating and sinister air about him approached the princess and greeted her with a swift bow. “Lady Edelgard,”

A normal person would probably back away from him. But not Byleth and Byriel, they had fought scarier people than this man.

“Hubert, these are the mercenaries I mentioned.” Edelgard looked to the twins. “Hubert is the heir of Marquis Vestra. He has served me since I was a child.”

“I heard you both came to the aid of Her Highness. You have my most sincere thanks.” Hubert gave them what they thought was an attempt at a smile.

“It was nothing, really,” Byleth replied a bit sheepishly, not really phased by his somewhat evil-looking appearance. “We just did what we thought was right.”

“Still, you protected Lady Edelgard. That alone is admirable.” He frowned. “If I had been there…”

“Hubert, it was a mission for the House Leaders specifically. No exceptions.” Edelgard reminded him.

He didn’t look pleased. “The only time the Archbishop sends the three house leaders on a training mission alone, and there was an ambush. I knew I should’ve followed behind… ”

“Hubert, you don’t always have to do that.”

“It’s my job to keep your path clear, Lady Edelgard.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Regardless, what’s done is done. Hubert, why don’t you bring Petra here for a moment?”

Hubert was quiet, then he shook his head. “Yes… what’s done is done. If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” He walked off for a moment to talk to a different student. A girl with dark magenta hair pulled into a complex braid.

“He seems a bit… what’s the word…?” Byriel whispered quietly to his sister.

“Cold-blooded?” She asked.

Edelgard smiled a bit, overhearing. “I’d say that’s rather accurate, but if you can get past that you’ll see he’s quite astute and reasonable.”

Hubert came back with the female student. “This is Petra, she has come all the way from Brigid to study in the Empire.”

“Brigid…?” Byriel looked like he was trying to remember where that was.

“To the west of Fódlan is an archipelago called Brigid. Petra is the granddaughter to their king.”

“So she’s also a princess?” Byleth asked.

The future emperor nodded. “Brigid is a vassal state of the Empire,” Edelgard explained. “Which is how she came to be enrolled here. She’s incredibly smart and studious.”

Petra looked briefly at Hubert with a slight look of confusion. But he gave her a slight nod of encouragement and she turned to the twins. “Hello, I am called Petra. I am pleased to be meeting with…” She stopped. “No, I am pleased to have met you.”

Byleth nodded. “You as well.”

The girl smiled a little. “You are the heroes that did save Lady Edelgard?”

“We are,” Byriel confirmed.

“I am very grateful, I give you sincere thanks. I hope we will be getting to know… wait,” She thought the words again briefly. “I hope we will know each other better.”

“So do we,” Byriel was smiling a little, curious to gain a connection with this girl.

The three moved on with Petra and Hubert resuming conversation as normal. Admittedly the classroom wasn’t as welcoming as the ones the twins had seen before, but it wasn’t entirely cold. They were friendly but formal.

Next, the trio approached two male students; one was shorter with very short, light blue hair and the other was taller with dark green hair lazily pulled back by a white ribbon.

Before Edelgard could get a word out, the shorter student looked to the twins and his jaw dropped. “Is it true that you two saved Edelgard? That’s incredible!”

Both Byriel and Byleth recoiled at the boy, as he had practically shouted the words.

“Caspar, not so loud.” Edelgard sighed.

“Whoops, sorry. I got a bit excited.” He laughed boisterously. “The name’s Caspar. Pleased to meet ya!”

“Y-You as well,” Byleth squeaked.

There was silence, and then Caspar looked over to his friend with a look. “Uh, Linhardt? Aren’t you going to introduce yourself too?”

The green-haired man looked at the twins with a look of indifference. “Linhardt. Goodbye.”

The twins blinked in confusion and both Caspar and Edelgard gave a sigh of frustration.

“Yeesh, Linhardt,” Caspar lectured. “How’d you get into the academy with those manners?”

Linhardt didn’t respond, and there was a moment where the twins thought that the man had somehow fallen asleep with his eyes open.

Caspar looked back at the twins. “So, you’re both students too? Maybe we’ll be in the same class!”

“Maybe…” Byleth muttered, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. 

Byriel was cringing at the levels of this small boy’s voice.

“Heck yeah!” Caspar was grinning from ear to ear. “Having classmates as strong as you will be great! No enemy will stand a chance against us!”

Linhardt looked over at the male twin with a seemingly-dazed look. “You’re both seem so strange. I can’t put my finger on it though…” 

Caspar gave him a look. “What are you talking about?”

“Hm, what  _ am _ I talking about… you two seem so strange. I can’t help but be somewhat intrigued.”

Linhardt stared at the twins for a long moment, long enough for them to think he somehow fell asleep with his eyes open, before Edelgard had to clear her throat. “We should move on.”

“Aw, well, I hope to see you both around!” Caspar called.

Edelgard and Byleth moved on, however, Byriel lingered behind just a bit longer in the unbroken staring contest between him and the drowsy student. Byleth had to drag him by the arm away.

Edelgard let out a sigh. “That was Caspar, the second son to Count Bergliez. He has no inheritance in his future, so he’s always very eager to prove himself.”

“He’s… loud,” Byleth stated flatly.

“He’s overly energetic and tends to rush headfirst into any battle. So keep a close eye on him if he ends up in your care.”

Byriel gave his sister a look. “Sounds like someone else I know.”

Byleth frowned.

“You?” Edelgard gave her a look, surprised.

“Sometimes.”

“Why else did I learn faith magic? Because of this blockhead-” Byleth landed a solid blow to her brother’s arm. “Ow-!”

“You’re just as much of a blockhead!”

Edelgard looked somewhat amused as the twins gave each other glares. Then Byriel broke first and looked to Edelgard. “What about Linhardt?”

Edelgard sighed. “Linhardt is remarkably intelligent, but he only wishes to apply himself to tasks that particularly interest him and nothing else… he’s also very fond of, well, napping.”

“I am as well, it seems we have that in common,” Byriel stated.

“That’s because you stay up until the sun rises.” Byleth threw back, ending the dispute.

Edelgard almost smiled. “If he had any work ethic or sense of duty to speak of, I suppose he would be destined to become an official of the Empire.” She looked at Byriel. “You might even be able to learn more about how to use magic from him if you can get him awake. Though I should warn you, he has a bit of a… different way of thinking.”

Different or not, Byleth knew that Byriel did want to learn more about how to use magic. She thought that, maybe, if he chose this house he’d be able to learn more. Maybe even become more powerful and not burn his eyebrows off every time he cast fire?

"Are most of these students nobles of some kind?" Byriel asked.

"Most of them, yes." Edelgard nodded. "However, this one over here is the rare exception."

The trio approached the next student; a beautiful young woman with chestnut-colored curls and eyes the color of emeralds. She also wore several pieces of bright jewelry, and even the way her uniform was arranged made her stand out more. She smiled at them as they approached, and both twins felt their nonexistent hearts flutter at her stunning grin.

“Well, aren’t you two just lovely.” She mused. “Is this your first time in the monastery? Shall I show you around?”

“U-Um,” Byleth suddenly felt like the entire room was staring at her.

“Apologies, Dorothea, but I was already doing that.” Edelgard frowned.

She smiled a bit. “That’s my Edie for you, always right to the point.” Edelgard made a face briefly as the girl looked back at the twins. “My name is Dorothea. Before I joined the academy, I was a member of an opera company in the Empire. You should hear me sing some time.”

Byleth remembered something. “Opera company? Like Professor Manuela?”

Dorothea’s smile widened. “Exactly! You’ve met Professor Manuela then?”

“We have. Were you part of the same company?”

“Mittelfrank Opera Company! Have you heard of it?”

“We’re uh…” Byriel felt awkward again. “We’re not exactly very well-versed in that stuff.”

Dorothea tilted her head a bit. “Really? How curious…”

Edelgard also gave them an intrigued look. “It seems like you two are unfamiliar with a lot of things.”

The twins shifted uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed at their lack of knowledge of things like opera and even their father’s past as a knight.

However, the future emperor continued, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not as familiar with things like opera myself.”

“What? Edie!” Dorothea whined a little.

“I have duties as Adrestia’s future emperor, so I don’t have a lot of time to indulge in things like that.”

“Well, now you three  _ have _ to hear me sing sometime!” Dorothea mused. “There’s no getting out of it.”

“Are we being held hostage?” Byleth asked Edelgard.

The future emperor actually snorted a laugh at the response, momentarily dropping her militaristic and somewhat cold persona.

“I don’t think hostage is the right word…” Byriel squinted in thought. 

Dorothea laughed. “You both are so curious to me; you can fight bandits and yet you seem so somber… it’s actually rather poetic if you think about it; twin mercenaries saving the lives of three future leaders, their fates intertwined by a seemingly simple battle that spirals into a bigger picture. It’d likely end in betrayal and heartbreak.”

Edelgard made a face. “Must you always compare these things to tragedies?”

“It’s more fun to do so, Edie.” Dorothea shrugged delicately. “Anyway, I look forward to getting to know both of you more.”

“S-Same here…” Byleth stuttered, shrinking behind her brother a little.

The opera singer gave them a warm smile and watched them leave. Though her gaze stuck on them as they followed Edelgard across the room to the last two students; a small girl with messy, chin-length violet hair, who looked ready to run at any given second, and a taller, more esteemed-looking man with well-manicured, marmalade-colored locks.

“Hello-” Before Edelgard could finish speaking, the smaller girl let out a shriek and hid behind the taller noble.

“What?! I don’t talk to strangers!”

The noble she hid behind looked back at her, “Bernadetta, these are no strangers! Edelgard owes them a great debt, is that not right?”

Edelgard frowned.

“I heard about the bandit attack, it must’ve been frightening,” He went on. “If  _ I _ were there, they wouldn’t have made it two feet into the camp!”

“They surprised us, not even Claude could’ve predicted it.”

The noble faltered, “W-Well, I still would’ve been able to defeat them swiftly and quickly. Those ruffians would be no match for a noble like me!”

Edelgard narrowed her gaze at the noble, who still smiled at her with a somewhat arrogant grin.

“Ferdinand, why do you feel the need to constantly challenge me?”

“I am simply trying to prove that I am superior to you!”

_ At least he’s honest about it…? _ Byleth thought.

Byriel snickered a little.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Byriel wheezed a little.

“What?” Byleth asked.

He got close and whispered quietly so that he couldn’t hear. “He kind of reminds me of a puppy.”

Byleth thought for a moment.  _ Puppy…? _ Then it clicked, and she had to cover her mouth with both hands to hold back a laugh.

The noble stared at the two, puzzled. “What’s so funny? Tell me!”

“N-No, you wouldn’t get it.” Byriel waved his hand in dismissal.

Edelgard looked at the twins with curiosity, also interested to hear the joke.

“We’ll tell you later,” Byleth promised.

The noble then straightened and bowed. “Anyway, I am Ferdinand von Aegir, legitimate son of the Aegir family, the Empire’s foremost house.”

He had practically shouted the name, and from the corner of the room came Dorothea’s voice called out.

“Oh, I couldn’t quite hear that, Ferdie. Could you repeat that?”

Ferdinand looked to where the opera singer was standing, confused. “But you already know who I am, Dorothea!”

“Yes, but I’m not quite certain the entire monastery heard you shout that.” She threw back.

“Why do you give me such cold treatment?”

“Because I hate you.”

Edelgard looked shocked. “Th-That’s… fairly blunt,”

Byriel smiled. “I like her honesty.”

Ferdinand’s face fell so suddenly, and all of a sudden he looked so depressed that Byleth felt bad for making fun of him before.

_ Puppy. Definitely a puppy. _

In all the talking, Byleth also noticed the smaller girl with violet hair distancing herself from the rest of the group, huddling over by a table.

“Your name was Bernadetta, right?” She asked.

The girl shrieked again. “Please don’t sneak up on me again!”

Byleth recoiled a bit. “S-Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to. You just disappeared so suddenly.”

“D-Disappeared?” She asked from her hiding spot.

“Yeah,” Byleth nodded. “I didn’t even hear you move. That’s good for battle.”

The girl was silent and from the position Byleth stood at she couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

“I-I don’t like fighting, I use a bow.”

Byleth thought about that. “Hm, you’re light on your feet, and you use a bow… that could be very useful for stealth missions.”

The girl let out a cry. “You’re putting too much faith in me! I’m not that good!”

“That’s why we’re here. To learn how to be better.”

“That’s easy for you to say! You’re a scary mercenary!”

Byleth blinked. “Scary? Am I that scary?”

“N-No, I mean, no, you’re not-!” The girl cried again. “Now you’ve done it, Bernie! Now you’re her mortal enemy! Run!”

Then the girl bolted out of the room, faster than Byleth could register. Edelgard, Byriel, and Ferdinand looked over to where Bernadetta ran. All three with expressions of great concern for her.

Byleth counted on her fingers. “Light on her feet, good with a bow, very fast… I will remember this.”

Edelgard sighed. “That was Bernadetta… she’s Count Varley’s only daughter. I suppose you could say she’s a bit… eccentric. But she seems like a gentle soul.”

“A little skittish…” Byriel commented though he looked just as concerned.

“I believe she’s gone off to shut herself away in her quarters. She often doesn’t care to leave them, but don’t worry. I’ll make sure she finds her way to class.”

Ferdinand looked to the twins, his concern was somehow more apparent. “That poor girl, I will also make sure she gets to class on time and feels welcomed.”

He phrased it like he was trying to compete with Edelgard again, but he sounded genuine in his worry for Bernadetta.

“Anyway, we should move on. I’d like to take a moment to talk to both the professors for a moment.” Edelgard looked to Byriel and Byleth. “Do you mind at all?”

“That’s fine.” Byriel followed the woman out of the class.

“H-Hold on,” Byleth was about to follow, but then gave a quick glance back to Ferdinand. “U-Uh, nice to meet you, Ferdinand.”

He rebounded and smiled widely. “It was wonderful to meet you too! I look forward to seeing you in class!”

She nodded and ran after her brother and Edelgard. Interestingly, they didn’t stop until they reached the reception hall. Noticeably away from anyone who may accidentally walk in on them. Perhaps it was out of habit, or maybe it was intentional, but it was still something the two took note of.

“As you can see from Ferdinand, for some reason, he thinks of me as a bitter rival and is always trying to challenge me. It’s terribly irritating.” Edelgard spoke a little bitterly.

“He said he was part of that house… Aegir?” Byriel asked cautiously.

She nodded. “Right, his house is that of Duke Aegir which produces Adrestia’s Prime Ministers.”

“That’s a lot of power, right?” Byleth asked her brother, who would likely be more well-versed in that kind of politics.

Byriel nodded. “It basically means they have as much power as the emperor does.”

Edelgard looked grim. ‘That family is perhaps too pleased with its own status.”

“But he seems nice enough… a little arrogant maybe, but...” Byleth started to talk, but the sentence lost steam the longer she spoke.

Byriel looked to Edelgard. “Well, that just leaves you.”

“Me?” She asked.

“Yeah, what’s the story behind you. I mean, you’re the future Emperor.”

Edelgard pressed her lips into a thin line. “Well, some people think I’m a bit distant. Arrogant, even. But there’s little to be done.” She raised her chin. “One day, I must rise to become Adrestia’s next emperor.”

The twins couldn’t help but think that she already carried herself as an emperor. Though from a first glance, it was easy to forget that fact.

“What else…” Edelgard looked deep in thought. “Well, it seems that we may have similar personalities.”

“I… have my doubts.” Byleth made a face.

“How so?”

“You’re not a blockhead like she is.” Byriel stated.

“I am  _ not _ a blockhead.” Byleth glared at her brother.

“Blockhead…?” Edelgard looked to Byriel with a questioning look.

“It’s a name for stubborn fools who don’t listen.” He explained. “Ferdinand is a puppy and Byleth is a blockhead. You’re neither of those things.”

Edelgard looked surprised, then she chuckled. “A puppy… that does fit him well. Just don’t let him hear that.”

Byriel smirked a little.

“I hope you don’t have a nickname like that for me, however.”

“We just met you, so not yet.” Byriel shrugged.

She made a face. “So you plan on giving me one?”

“Does that bother you?”

“Not necessarily, it’s just bothersome not knowing what it is.” She frowned. “It better not be something ridiculous.”

“I will run it by you before we make it official.”

The look of frustration on Edelgard’s face was, admittedly, kind of adorable to Byleth. Honestly, the more she thought about it Edelgard, as scary as she seemed, was also kind of cute in some ways.

“Anyway, I’ve kept you both long enough and I have duties to attend to. I do hope you consider choosing the Black Eagle house.”

“Still determined to recruit us?” Byleth asked.

Edelgard started to walk away but then gave another look to the twins. “Perhaps. You’re both very capable people, so I don’t plan on letting you go so easily.”

“That’s a bit ominous,” Byriel smirked a little. “So should I expect the kidnapper now or later?”

She smiled and shook her head as she walked away, leaving the two twins to watch her disappear around a corner.

They looked at each other with a questioning look.

“You don’t think she’s  _ actually  _ going to kidnap us, right?” Byleth asked.

“Her? Hard to say, but I’m going to guess no. Otherwise, I’d have to give her a failing grade.” Byriel shrugged. “But you have to admit, she seems interesting.”

“Yeah… a future emperor. I wonder what that must be like.”

Byriel made a face. “Probably really dangerous.”

“ _ She _ seems dangerous.”

Byriel gave his twin a light shove on the arm. “Aw, don’t be like that. Emperor or not, she’s still a student here. As Seteth said, she won’t be a stranger when we get to know her.”

“Right…” Byleth nodded, still in thought. “Still, I’m curious…”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦  ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

The twins parted ways one last time, only long enough for Byriel to meet Dimitri’s house and for Byleth to meet Claude’s house. After they had become acquainted with each of the houses and their students, the two met up once more in front of the reception hall.

“You met everyone?” Byriel asked his twin as she walked out of the Golden Deer house.

She nodded and even had a small smile. “Leonie is here. It’s been years since we last saw her.”

“I know,” Byriel was also smiling. “I almost didn’t recognize her. I wonder if dad knows she’s here.”

“Maybe,” She looked back at the Golden Deer flag. “It’s nice to see someone familiar.”

“Yeah, but they all seem really nice.” Byriel scanned the courtyard. “I met a student that immediately challenged me to a swordfight. No hesitation.”

“You mean Felix?”

“Yeah, that’s his name. You’ve met him?”

“He challenged me as well.” 

Byriel scoffed, remembering how serious the young noble had looked when he had challenged him. “Go easy on him if you do fight him, By.”

“That wouldn’t be fair to him, By.”

“We’re not allowed to kill the students.”

Byleth looked shocked. “I wouldn’t dream of-”

“Joking.”

She glared at her brother’s smirk. “You little…”

He chuckled a bit. “So, which one will you pick?”

That made her pause. “Right… we have to pick different classes.”

“Yeah,” Byriel looked thoughtful; Claude, Dimitri, or Edelgard. All of which brought their own separate strengths to the table. “Which one though?”

They were both quiet, carefully going over their options. Then Byleth spoke up, “Hey, By, maybe you should choose Black Eagles?”

That was surprising. “Why them?”

“Well, you wanted to learn how to be a better magic user,” She explained. “And a lot of those students use magic it seems, so maybe you’d be more at home there.”

He had been interested in Edelgard and her house, surely. But a choice was still a choice, and he liked all the houses thus far. Admittedly, he likely would not choose Blue Lions, though not because he didn’t like Dimitri or any of the nobles in that house, but because he knew that he was likely not the right kind of teacher for them.

That only left Black Eagles and Golden Deer, and the Black Eagles House was… intriguing to him.

“You should be thinking about the house  _ you _ want to pick, not mine,” Byriel stated. 

“I already know my choice. You’re my brother, and I want to make sure you’re happy with what you choose.”

He sighed. “Geez, you worry about me too much.”

She flicked his arm, though there was no real power behind the attack. “It’s my job to worry.”

“Worry about yourself, blockhead.”

“When the Eternal Flames freeze over.”

Byriel gave his sister a look; even now, she was still worried about him. Not that he hated it, but she  _ always _ worried about him and put his needs before her own. How many times did she get unnecessarily hurt because she insisted on taking the majority of an attack? Or how many times she forgot to eat because she was constantly looking out at night for any potential danger?

He loved her, she was his other half and it hurt to see her want to hold so much.

“What are you choosing?” He asked.

Byleth smiled a little. “I have one in mind,”

He smirked. “Bet I know what it is.”

She walked past him, into the reception hall. “Bet you don’t,”

He followed. “Shall we wager?”

“Nope!”

“You’re just scared I’ll win.” Byriel teased.

She kept walking, ignoring him. He knew her well enough to know exactly what house she was going to choose. But for himself? He felt clueless.

Seteth was waiting in the hall, and the moment he saw the twins he approached in that same brisk manner. “Have you become accustomed to the three houses yet?”

“We have.” Byriel nodded.

“And…?”

Byleth’s gaze almost fell to the floor, but she quickly corrected it. “They all seem like good students.”

Byriel nodded. “Same goes here,”

The advisor looked almost proud that the twins had pushed past their previous fears, and it made Byriel wonder if this man had actually been that worried about them. Why though? They just met.

“Good,” Seteth nodded shortly. “In that case, Lady Rhea is waiting for you.”

The two looked at each other briefly, surprised to have to make the choice so quickly, but then nodded and followed Seteth back the way towards the audience chamber. All the while, though, Byriel internally debated on which of the last two houses to pick between.

He was lost in thought to a point where it took his sister shaking his shoulder to pull him out. Now they stood at the doors to the audience chamber.

“You alright?” Byleth asked.

“Yeah,” He nodded, already dreading having to go back to see Rhea and her soulless eyes.

But alas, he had to.

The moment they walked into the audience chamber, the two were greeted by both Hanneman and Manuela while Seteth rejoined Rhea’s side.

The Archbishop smiled cooly at the twins. “How are you enjoying your time at the academy thus far? I hope you have found our halls brimming with the vitality of well-intentioned souls.”

_ Well-intentioned souls…? Don’t you just mean students? _

Seteth crossed his arms, watching the two. “I suppose it is time for you both to take charge of one of our three houses of students.”

Byriel couldn’t help but get the feeling that Seteth, despite everything, still didn’t completely trust the two of them. Not to say that he didn’t blame the advisor, though.

“The Black Eagles, the Blue Lions, and the Golden Deer…” Manuela mused. “All so different.”

Hanneman looked to the two. “Since you both are new here, we have decided to allow you first pick. Manuela and I will take charge of the remaining house.” Both of the professors seemed less than thrilled with the decision.

The twins looked at each other, silently telling the other to go first.

Byleth, thankfully, went first. She cleared her throat, and spoke up, “I-I choose the Blue Lion house.”

_ I knew it. _

“So, you have chosen the Blue Lions, led by Dimitri?”

She nodded. Byriel wasn’t even surprised; they just seemed like the kind of house that his sister would be drawn to.

“And you, Byriel?” Rhea looked to the other twin.

Byriel felt stuck at a crossroads; Claude or Edelgard. He thought for a moment, carefully going over the options.

He remembered how Byleth had suggested Black Eagles, as they would be better suited to his skills. But he couldn’t help but think back to Claude and the rest of the Golden Deer house. They seemed like a few odd ball, but Byriel had taken note of them. Maybe they weren’t the most powerful, or the most well-organized, but there was potential there.

There was potential, and Byriel refused to ignore it.

Byriel straightened. “I choose Golden Deer.”

His twin looked surprised.

“So you’ve chosen the house led by Claude?” Rhea asked.

“I have,” Byriel smiled a bit.

Rhea nodded. “Your hearts have made its choices, then. All I ask is that you guide these open minds with virtue, care, and sincerity.”

“They are all promising youths who bear the weight of Fódlan’s future upon their shoulders. I hope you appreciate what an honor it is to lead them.” Seteth warned.

Byriel felt as if an actual weight had been placed on his shoulders at those words, and he guessed his sister probably felt the same way.

“Brother?” A female’s voice suddenly came from beside the group. Byriel looked, and saw a young girl run up beside Manuela, only to freeze in her steps. “Oh! I am so sincerely sorry! I did not mean to interrupt.”

The twins turned to see a rather small girl walk up to Seteth and it made both of them catch their breath. Seteth was no doubt related to her, her long curling locks the color of spring leaves when sunlight hit them, and pinned carefully with two gold hair clips. Her eyes were stunning and fluorescent lime, almost seeming to glow with wonder and curiosity once she laid eyes on the two. Her dress was black, decorated in a way that mirrored her brother’s own attire.

Seteth looked to the girl, his expression softer than it was a moment before. “I am in the middle of something, Flayn. Is it urgent?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” The girl, Flayn, looked to the twins. “More importantly, who are they?”

“They are our newest professors at the academy.” He explained.

“Oh my! A new addition to the Officers Academy!” She smiled brightly at the two. “I am so very pleased to meet you, Professors!”

“N-Nice to meet you too.” Byleth nodded to the girl.

“I am Seteth’s little sister, Flayn. I am so happy to make your acquaintance.”

Byriel gave the girl a nod as well, noting the odd way she spoke so formally for a girl who looked maybe around Lysithea’s age.

“Let us focus on the topic at hand,” Seteth pulled their attention away quickly, his look a clear warning to stay away from his sister. “There is something you should be aware of.”

“What is it?” Byleth asked.

“In a few days’ time, there will be a mock battle between the three houses intended to gauge the current progress of the students.” He explained briskly. “We will be using this battle as an opportunity to ascertain your own abilities as well. Please, do not disappoint the archbishop. That is all.”

It felt like a slap in the face. A mock battle meant to measure their skills? More than that… Byriel wasn’t fighting with his twin. He was her enemy.

Byleth looked to her twin, eyes wide with shock. “Mock battle…?”

Before they could talk, Hanneman pulled their attention away. “Come along now, Professors. We must go introduce ourselves to our classes.”

They reluctantly followed, all while Byriel’s mind was racing; a mock battle against his own sister. He knew, for a fact, that he could never defeat her with swords. He didn’t think anyone could really defeat her, but maybe they didn’t have to.

He felt bad that he was already planning a strategy, but he knew that she knew it wasn’t personal. In a way, he was even a little interested to see how they’d do on the battlefield. His strategy versus her stubbornness.

Hopefully they wouldn’t walk away from this fight with too many wounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EldritchGremlin: Hey! We're back and we have another short story written by Happy once again! This will be apart of GS in Sylvain's POVs! >:^)
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/21428173


	9. Chapter 8: First Impressions

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Eight ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ First Impressions ⋅ ✦

* * *

Dimitri

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♕ ◦∘ ═════════╝

Dimitri’s head was aching again. Not an uncommon occurrence that happened to him, but still inconvenient. He stood outside the Blue Lions classroom, waiting for any news regarding their new professor, pressing his fingers into his aching temple. Dedue, always a loyal companion, waited with Dimitri with a usual, stern expression. But the Duscur man noticed Dimitri's tense expression and looked slightly concerned.

"Shall I fetch Manuela for medicine?"

“No, I'll be fine. More importantly, I wonder which one will be our professor…” Dimitri looked to the reception hall.

“It’s hard to say, Your Highness,” Dedue stated simply.

“I know…” Dimitri rubbed at the side of his temple briefly, thinking back to the twin professors. Byriel and Byleth Eisner, both of them equally mysterious and amazingly skilled, but also different in their own aspects.

The prince couldn’t hide the fact that he hoped one of them would choose the Blue Lion house. He also silently hoped that one of the twins, in particular, would choose the Blue Lions. He never said the preference openly, as it would be rude to do so, but he still had his fingers crossed.

A few moments later, Dimitri heard the reception hall doors open. Out walked the four professors, and noticeably Professor Byriel Eisner stood outside the Golden Deer classroom. It seemed that he had chosen Claude’s class, which only left his twin sister and the two older professors. 

The prince straightened quickly and bowed a greeting. “Professors,”

“Hello Dimitri,” Manuela smiled warmly. “Sorry, we kept you waiting.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” He replied. “Are you about to greet everyone?”

“We are,” Hanneman looked over to Professor Byleth Eisner. “I believe this is your stop, professor.”

“Th-Thank you,” She replied quietly as Hanneman and Manuela walked towards the Black Eagles house classroom.

Dimitri couldn’t hide his excitement. His face lit up, and he smiled at the woman. “You’re teaching the Blue Lions house?”

Byleth blinked in surprise at his eagerness but then nodded. “Yes, that’s right. I thought, well, this house might be a better fit for my… ” she struggled for a moment to find the right word. “Teaching methods.”

The prince’s smile only grew, and as if by the work of the goddess, his headache was suddenly gone. “I’m truly grateful you have chosen the Blue Lions house, Professor. I look forward to the year to come!”

She nodded again briefly, clasping her hands together anxiously.

“Come now,” He turned to the doors. “We should greet everyone.”

The Professor made a face. “Do you think they’ll be alright with me being their professor?”

Dimitri felt sympathy for the professor’s unease; she seemed so fearless on the battlefield, but in normal environments, she was very reserved. While he wasn’t reserved, he could understand the feeling of being out of place in a new environment. The battlefield was an easier place to be, words were unnecessary and his strengths were better suited to swing a weapon. Without that, he was hopelessly lost. The prince wondered if the woman before him thought the same way. Or if she thought anything.

“Nonsense,” He reassured. “The impression you left on them was positive, I’ve heard everyone talking about how eager they are to see you join the class all day. You have nothing to fear, Professor.”

Byleth looked thoughtful, or at least he assumed she was thinking of something. It was a bit difficult to tell what she was thinking with how stoic her expression was typically, and Dimitri was already terrible at reading facial expressions.

The professor nodded again. “Alright…”

Dedue stepped before the prince and opened the door for them. Dimitri wanted to tell his companion that he could open doors just fine, but just sighed and let the professor enter first.

Inside, the rest of the Blue Lion house was waiting in a small group. They all turned to look at Dedue, Dimitri, and Byleth as they walked inside.

Sylvain was the first to speak up. “Hey, where’s the professor?”

Dimitri looked to Byleth, who looked like she was ready to make a run for it. However, she straightened and spoke up. “I-I apologize, I haven’t properly introduced myself to all of you. My name is Byleth Eisner, and I will be your professor for this coming year. It’s nice to meet all of you.”

Everyone waited in confused silence as if expecting some kind of punchline.

Then Felix spoke up. “Wait… you’re being serious?”

“Yes,” Byleth nodded.

Annette’s face recoiled in shock. “W-Wait, does this mean you’re… No, I really can’t believe it! But I was speaking to you so casually, as though we were companions!” She suddenly covered her mouth in shock. “Oh, I am so sorry, Professor! You just look the same age as the rest of us!”

“I-I’m likely the same age as you, if not a little older so…”

“Oh, I’m sorry I just said that too! I really must watch my tongue… ” Annette apologized quickly.

“No, it’s alright.” Byleth looked to the rest of the class. “I don’t mind if you treat me as a friend.”

Annette frowned. “You say that, but I just don’t know about all of this.”

Dimitri shifted a little bit. “I’ll admit, it doesn’t sit well with me either.” He felt a bit uncomfortable with the idea of addressing his superior so casually, even if she was the same age as the rest of them. Old Faerghus manners strike again, and at the worst of times. “Afterall, we wish to show you due respect.”

“Sure,” Sylvain piped up. “But if the professor says it’s okay, shouldn’t that be enough?” Then the Gautier noble smiled a bit. “That is if Your Highness can consent to such a thing. After all, we’re already speaking this way to our future king, so we may as well relax our speech with our professor too, right?”

Dimitri frowned. “Well, we’re not in the Kingdom, so it only goes to follow that we should all speak companionably…” In all honesty, it was uncomfortable to Dimitri for people to address him as His Highness so often. It was a title as cold as the winters in Fhirdiad, and he wanted his companions to see him as just a friend, not a future king. He felt guilty suddenly, as it was likely the professor likely had the same belief. _ Who am I to assume things like that? _

“I concede,” Dimitri looked to Byleth. “If the professor says it’s fine, we ought to accept that kindness gratefully.”

Ingrid still looked uncomfortable with the idea. “As for me, I’m not sure I can manage.”

Mercedes gave a gentle smile. “You don’t have to force yourself if it’s too difficult.” She looked at Byleth. “You’re fine with that too, right Professor?”

She nodded. “Of course.” The professor clasped her hands together. “I don’t want you to think I’m unapproachable at all, I’m new to this as well. But I will do my best to work with you all.” Her face remained neutral as she said it, but she did seem genuine. “If you have any questions, I’ll try my best to answer them.”

Then Sylvain smiled that charming grin he reserved for flirting. “Such benevolence is a sight to behold. I don’t suppose you would care to join me for tea? We could discuss education,” He winked at Byleth. “And marriage?”

Byleth’s face recoiled a bit, and a collective groan spread throughout the other students. Dimitri, on the other hand, suddenly felt his face flare up with annoyance, but it was more than usual. He had no idea why though.

“Sylvain, she’s our professor!” He scolded.

“Control yourself, Sylvain,” Felix said flatly, and unsurprised that his friend immediately jumped to flirting with the professor. “I have more important matters to discuss with our new professor.”

Byleth looked to the Fraldarius noble. “Oh, you’re still set on dueling me?”

“You claim that you don’t lose, but it’s one thing to brag and another thing to prove it.” He spoke boldly. “Later, I expect to see you at the training ground. There, you will show me what you’re capable of.”

“You aren’t wasting any time, are you, Felix?” Dimitri smiled a little at the Fraldarius noble; as cold as Felix could be, even the prince knew that his friend was eager to face against the professor. Ever since she had made that statement, Felix had made up his mind. “As it were, count me in for any such battle.”

That earned Dimitri a glare from Felix so sharp it could likely put Zoltan weapons to shame.

Ashe poked his head from behind Sylvain. “Pardon me, but I would also love to observe you in battle, for future reference. If that’s okay with you.”

Byleth nodded. “Of course, I don’t mind observers if you’re alright with it.” She looked at Felix.

He rolled his eyes a bit. “I don’t care.”

Dimitri looked to the smaller boy. “Ashe, I won’t have you speak of merely watching. You should join us as well.”

Mercedes laughed sweetly. “If you get injured, simply say the word and I’ll patch you up straight away!”

Dedue gave a look to Dimitri. “Your Highness, do take care not to go overboard.”

The prince smiled at his companion. “You worry too much, Dedue. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

Dedue frowned a little, not convinced. It couldn’t be helped, Dimitri supposed. Dedue always worried about the safety and whereabouts of him.

“My companions!” Sylvain blurted. “Is there not something inherently wrong with crossing blades as a way to bond with each other?”

Byleth scrunched her face a little. “My brother and I duel whenever we get the chance.”

“I thought you never lose.” Felix pointed out.

“I never said he wins.”

That made Dimitri a bit unsettled; he had seen Byriel Eisner on the battlefield, and while he was more magically inclined he still seemed physically strong. To think this twin was the better swordswoman was intimidating.

“Besides,” Byleth continued. “The best way you learn how to fight is by fighting with your family. Or at least, people who know you best.”

“You fight with your family often?” Dimitri asked, concerned.

She almost smiled. “Yes. Whenever we get the chance, but never with the intention to seriously hurt each other. Our father has had my brother and I dueling each other since we were very young, and he’s always encouraged us to not hold back. We’ve given each other some pretty nasty bruises and cuts, but never to seriously injure each other. Byriel knows my weaknesses better than anyone, and I know his. It’s dangerous information if you are enemies, but when you are faced with a fierce opponent who doesn’t hold back, it’s easier for you to protect each other when you know the areas your companion stumbles in.”

Everyone was surprised, even Dimitri was stunned. The rest of the Blue Lions looked at each other in thought, considering the lesson. That kind of knowledge was something not even Dimitri had considered before, and he felt like a fool for not knowing it sooner.

Byleth’s face recoiled in surprise. “A-At least, that’s how we were taught…” She shook her head. “Anyway, I know that the mock battle is coming up. My brother is very intelligent, so we’ll have to be careful when we face him and his class. It’s best to start learning each other’s weaknesses now so that we can better prepare to face him.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way,” Ingrid looked intrigued. Then she gave a look to Sylvain. “Well, if that’s how you feel, I suppose you’ll just stay behind while the rest of us are at the training ground?”

“Ingrid, my dearest friend!” Sylvain whined a bit. “You really are too harsh on me.”

Dimitri smiled a bit at Byleth. “Well then, Professor, what do you think?”

“Of what?”

“As you can see, the Blue Lion House is a lively bunch. But you’ll find none who work harder.” He spoke sincerely. “I’m certain we’ll cause our fair share of trouble, but I’m very much looking forward to the year ahead.”

She nodded, and almost smiled again. “I am as well.”

_ So close. _ Dimitri made a silent vow that he’d get the professor to genuinely smile someday. He was intrigued by this mysterious woman and wanted to know her better. Call it curiosity, or maybe admiration, but he wanted to know who this woman really was.

“In any case,” Felix pointed to Byleth. “I expect a challenge.”

Byleth tilted her head a bit. “Well, I don’t mind. If that’s alright with everyone else.”

The rest of the class gave a resounding approval, which surprised the swordswoman a little bit.

“Just warning you now,” Sylvain spoke up. “Felix is the best swordsman I’ve ever met.”

Felix gave the Gautier noble a look as Byleth gave a slight shrug. “Well, let’s see for ourselves. It’ll be a chance for me to see what needs to be worked on, I suppose.”

And with that, the Blue Lions all left the classroom and began to walk towards the training grounds. Byleth walked a little behind the group, but Dimitri slowed down his pace to walk side-by-side with her.

“Are you really alright with dueling him?” He asked, a little worried for the professor. “Felix is a fearsome opponent. I’ve only known one other person who he’s never been able to beat.”

Byleth pressed her lips together. “I don’t mind. I don’t even mind if he wins, but I’ve never lost before.”

Dimitri gave her a puzzled look; she had never stated that she was undefeated like she was bragging, she said it like it was just a statement. A fact that was obvious, like how the sky was blue or the grass was green. That scared him more somehow, and he recalled how Claude had rudely called her and her twin demons. But… he wasn’t completely wrong for assuming that. These twins seemed so distant and cold, unfeeling when they clashed blades with enemies on the field.

Dimitri wondered if they felt anything at all. Regardless, this one was his professor and he would show due respect. But… he would also keep his guard up.

  
  
  
  


꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Claude

╚═════════ ∘◦ ☾ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ It’s your turn. _ That was what Byriel Eisner had said to Claude before running off, and it was still infuriating him. He had taken the stoic mercenary for someone oblivious, but clearly there was something beneath the surface to the professor.

Claude wasn’t holding onto any hope that Byriel, or his twin for that matter, would choose Golden Deer. If anything, Black Eagles would’ve surely stolen one of them. Not like he expected one of them to join. He never expected anything from anyone.

“Where’s the professor?” Ignatz wondered out loud. They had been waiting for a fairly long time for their homeroom professor to officially greet the class, but there was no sign of anyone coming.

Claude shrugged. “Meeting probably ran long or something.”

Hilda whined. “If they don’t show up soon, I’m leaving.”

And at that statement, there was a knock at the classroom door.

“Speaking of which, that’s probably them right now.” Claude looked to Hilda, waiting for her to get the door. She was closest to the door, but she made no indication to go and open it. 

So Claude, truly amazed by how lazy the girl was, walked across the room and pulled the door open. He was expecting to see Hanneman and Manuela, as it was obvious that the two professors would be taking up the remaining classroom. However, the person who walked past him wasn’t either of the professors. They didn’t hesitate, walking to the group of students with a set expression on his face.

“Hello all of you, my name is Byriel Eisner,” He greeted. “I will be your professor for this year.”

Claude was stunned, as well as the rest of the Golden Deer class. Byriel had actually chosen the Golden Deer house, even though his talents likely were more suited to the Black Eagle house. Why though? Was he really that determined to learn more about Claude? Or was he planning something else?

“Wait, what?!” Hilda gaped. “Are you _ really _ our new homeroom professor?!”

“Is that true?” Ignatz questioned.

Byriel nodded. “It is. Sorry I didn’t say that sooner.”

Ignatz had a dumbfound look on his face as he looked over the new professor. “You aren’t quite what I had pictured- oh, sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Hilda laughed a bit. “I was sure you’d be roped into joining the knights!”

Byriel narrowed his eyes. “Being a knight is something my father and sister are better suited to become, not me. No, I’m your professor.”

Claude gave a sly smile to the mercenary. “Don’t tell me; you chose this class just to get to know me better, right? I’m flattered, really.”

The professor gave a stern look to Claude, who laughed in response, “Whoops, now that you’re our professor, maybe I should choose my words more carefully.”

“I don’t mind the words you say to me. I’m not trying to come off as unapproachable to any of you,” Byriel frowned, “But don’t think I’m going to tolerate any disrespect or go easy on you because we’re close in age.”

Claude laughed a bit, “You’re so serious all of a sudden. Regardless, since we’re pretty close in age, I assume, I suppose formalities aren’t all that necessary.”

The professor made a stern expression that looked almost exactly like the face Jeralt made in the battle with the bandits, “Formalities aside, I mean it when I say I don’t tolerate disrespect. I might be new to teaching, but I won’t make any special exceptions for crappy behavior towards me or each other. I don’t want you to think that you can’t talk to me, but don’t think I don’t have lines not to cross.”

Claude laughed to himself, somewhat doubtful and also slightly terrified of the mercenary’s sudden serious tone.

“One must truly marvel at the exceptionality of this appointment,” Lorenz shook his head in disbelief, “Becoming a teacher to students almost the same age as yourself. How unusual. I’ve heard you are a skilled mercenary, but I cannot shake my discomfort at your new position.”

“Are you really as strong as they say?” Raphael looked to Byriel eagerly, “Let’s see your biceps! I bet I’ve packed on more muscle than you!”

Byriel made a face of discomfort, “I-I believe you, don’t worry.”

“I doubt that,” Ignatz looked to their new professor with admiration, “Apparently our new professors were personally recommended by Alois, one of the knights.”

“As far as skill goes, I saw it with my own eyes,” Claude looked to the mercenary, “What’s more, Teach here is the child of the most renowned former captain of the Knights of Seiros.”

Leonie gave a smile to Byriel, “And there’s no way any of the children of the captain isn’t worthy.”

Byriel looked a bit embarrassed at the compliment.

“The captain?” Lysithea looked confused, “Who are you talking about?”

“Captain Jeralt, of course!” Leonie said, proudly, “The most notable captain of the Knights of Seiros and a peerless mercenary!”

“I don’t know if he’s _ that _ famous,” Byriel muttered.

Leonie gave him a scowl, “Captain Jeralt deserves nothing but respect, especially from you.”

The professor made a slightly annoyed expression, which Claude guessed meant that Jeralt and Byriel were not as close as he first thought. Maybe he’d have to ask the professor about that later. 

“Well, after working as a mercenary alongside a father such as he,” Lysithea put the conversation at hand back on track, “I have high hopes for our professor.”

Hilda looked to the girl, “Just because someone is special doesn’t mean their children are special too, Lysithea. Assuming that a child is going to be exceptional just because of their lineage is a bad idea. Don’t you agree, Marianne?”

She addressed the timid woman next to her, who nodded stiffly and shrunk back, “Um, yes, I suppose so.”

Byriel, surprisingly, nodded, “That’s true. Just because I’m the son of Jeralt doesn’t mean I’m as skilled as he is. That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing, though.”

“Why did you choose us then?” Lysithea asked, “Wouldn’t you be better teaching someone like Black Eagles?”

“I chose this house because you all have potential.”

The class looked amongst themselves, doubting their abilities.

Byriel sighed, “From what I understand, a lot of people don’t expect much from you because of something like your status, education, or some other stupid excuse. But as far as that goes, I don’t give a damn about that. It doesn’t matter to me where you came from, how much education you’ve had in the past, how much money you have or how influential your families are; I will be treating each of you the same. If you stumble, I will gladly help you. But you will also work hard to improve your abilities and skills, and I will not go easy on you.”

“Huuuh?” Hilda whined, “You mean we’re going to have to actually do work?”

Byriel looked to the girl, “Yes, a lot of work as a matter of fact. We’re no Black Eagle house, but I’m going to whip you bunch into shape as if you were the Black Eagle house.”

Hilda let out another whine.

“I’m not my father, but he taught me a very important lesson. Your allies are your most important asset on the battlefield. Not your bloodline, not your gender, not your race, none of that matters when you’re fighting for your life. I’ve been in and seen enough fights to know that what matters in a fight is how good your skills are, how you use them to keep yourself and your friends alive, and how you deduce the best course of action. And as your professor, I am going to make sure that by the end of the year you are as good, if not _ better _, as anyone from the Blue Lion or Black Eagle house.”

Everyone stared at their professor, shocked by his words.

Byriel tilted his lips into a slight smirk, “And that is going to start with the mock battle. The Black Eagles have Edelgard, who is a terrifying force to be reckoned with. Worse is that the Blue Lions have my sister, and she’s the finest swordswoman I’ve ever met. She’s strong, and she’s absolutely stubborn, and I’d rather face down ten armies all at once than her alone. Likely, people think one of those two houses are going to win, so that’s why we’re going to surprise all of them when we win.”

“How?” Raphael asked eagerly.

“Skills are nothing without a good battle strategy. And as I will teach you this coming year, a smart and cunning plan can often turn the tables of even the most hopeless battle in your favor.”

Claude was in awe of this professor and felt stupid for misjudging him. It was him who had come up with the plan back in Remire Village, afterall, but the noble had never anticipated that their new teacher was this calculating. And that made him very dangerous in Claude’s head, a smart enemy was much scarier than a strong one. What other schemes were brewing in their teacher’s head, Claude wondered.

Leonie walked right up to Byriel and slapped him hard on the back of his shoulder, causing him to let out a short grunt from the force, “Well, I can’t wait to see what tactics you’ve learned these past few years, professor! From the captain, and what you’ve taught yourself!”

Raphael came up to him next, his excitement apparent, “Can we worry about the battle later? We should have a welcome party or something to celebrate you joining us! I’ll get the meat!”

Lorenz scrunched up his angular nose, “How savage! I propose a nice conversation over tea instead. I am more than willing to procure some high-quality leaves.”

“Tea?” Raphael gaped, “You can’t get to know someone over tea! If there’s no meat involved, it’s not a party!”

The helmet-haired noble let out a frustrated sigh, “Your common sensibilities are grating to my noble ears. Please, quiet yourself.”

“Why not both?” Byriel suggested.

“As long as there’s cake there, I don’t mind,” Lysithea added in.

Everyone erupted into eager chatter, talking and planning the now in motion welcome party. Claude walked up to Byriel, leaning in closer so the teacher could hear him, “Sorry for the bickering, Teach. As you can see, the Golden Deer House is a rowdy bunch. We’re not especially unified.”

“Well, that’ll change over the year,” Byriel stated.

“Maybe, we’re kind of a mixed bunch here; you’ll find nobles and commoners alike here, those who are dedicated to their studies alongside slackers.”

The professor turned to Claude, his expression curious, “And where exactly do you fall on that spectrum, Claude?”

He chuckled, “Well, you’ll just have to get to know me better over the year, Teach. I mean, you’re the one who challenged me to surprise you and I believe it’s still my turn.”

Byriel narrowed his eyes at Claude, giving the noble a chance to notice just how blue the professor’s eyes were; bright and clear like the two lapis stones. Why was he just noticing this now, though?

“Well, Claude von Riegan,” Byriel said his name, slow and deliberate, “I’ll warn you now; it takes a lot to surprise me.”

“Good thing I’m an unpredictable person. That makes your life more exciting, right?” Claude gave the mercenary a sly wink, “I really hope you’re looking forward to the year ahead as much as I am.”

Byriel’s eyes widened for a moment but then went back to its usual stoic expression. That made Claude’s smile widen a bit, knowing that as cold as the teacher seemed, he wasn’t completely made from stone. And now that he knew the stone could be cracked, he was dead set on seeing what made this mysterious mercenary tick.

“Now then,” Leonie walked up to Byriel’s side, grinning, “Shall we head over to the dining hall for a proper welcome party?”

The teacher looked to the rest of the students, “Well?”

He was met with a resounding agreement, and the group moved as one out of the classroom and in the direction of the dining hall. Claude stayed a bit further back from the group, watching the new teacher be swarmed by his students like bees to a flower.

But before they could go too far, the Blue Lion house crossed their paths briefly. All of them heading in the direction of the training hall.

“Oh?” Claude stepped closer to the front of the group, “What’s going on here?”

Immediately, he saw Byleth Eisner standing next to Dimitri. She stopped and addressed her brother, “Hey, are you going somewhere?”

“Welcome party,” Byriel stated simply, “What about you?”

The prince smiled that innocent grin that Claude both knew, and found slightly irritating, “The professor and Felix were going to duel, as a means of assessing their sword abilities,”

“Oh, I _ have _ to see that.” He glanced back to the class, “You can all head to the dining hall and get everything set up, I will join you shortly.”

“Are you sure?” Lysithea asked, “Will it take long?”

“No, it should honestly be a very short duel,” Byriel shrugged.

Claude didn’t even have to look in the direction of Felix Hugo Fraldarius to feel the angry glare shoot through the crowd at those words.

Most of the class seemed interested in watching, and Leonie laughed, “Like hell I’m missing this. Got room for a few observers?”

“I’m curious myself,” Ignatz looked to the female twin hopeful.

Byleth looked to the prince, “Is that alright with you?”

Dimitri’s eyebrows knitted together in thought, “I don’t mind, but really it’s up to Felix.”

“I don’t care,” Felix barked.

The rest of the Golden Deer class looked to the twins, awaiting the final verdict. They both shrugged, and Byriel looked to the students, “Alright then, we’ll watch the duel and then we can all get together to celebrate.”

More excited chatter as the group heading towards the training grounds got bigger. Claude found himself walking in step with the prince and laughed a bit.

“What’s so funny?” Dimitri asked as the training grounds approached.

“I hope you realize that you’re giving us get a leg up in the mock battle by letting us watch your two sword wielders fight.”

The prince made a face, “I have faith in the professor that, regardless of you watching her fight, we will still win.”

“Oh yeah?” Claude gave a sly grin to the prince, “Just warning you now, Teach is a pretty sharp guy and he’s determined to win.”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out when the mock battle arrives.” Dimitri nodded sternly, quickening his pace to match Byleth’s.

Claude couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. _ Such a brute. But in the end, it doesn’t matter how strong you are, Dimitri. I have a scheme already in the making, and with Byriel Eisner on our side, you won’t even know what hit you. _

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Felix

╚═════════ ∘◦ **⚔** ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ It had been a long time since Felix dueled against someone unfamiliar. _He had fought against Sylvain, Ingrid, as well as whatever groundskeepers that were tasked with giving the students someone to practice techniques with, and Felix had gotten to know each and every one of their moves so well that it wasn't even what he could call winning.

So to face an unfamiliar opponent was refreshing. Though even Felix, deep down, felt unnerved by her.

The groups entered the training grounds, a large square-shaped and open-ceiling arena lined with stone columns all around the outside. There were racks of training weapons on the walls and several teachers wearing armor lingered about the space, always willing to give the students a challenge if needed.

While Felix and Byleth walked to the center of the room, the rest of the group quickly retreated to the sidelines. All of them were practically tripping over themselves to get a good view. It was annoying, to say the least.

The professor looked around the arena, eyes wide with amazement, “I’ve never been in one of these before.”

Felix brushed off the professor’s statement and walked over to a large rack where wooden swords were lined side-by-side.

“I won’t go easy on you, I hope you know that,” Felix called out to the professor as he picked two training swords.

The other twin suddenly called out, “By! Go easy on him!”

Anger spiked through Felix at the statement, “Don’t go easy on me either!”

Byleth pressed her lips together briefly, “I don’t want to hurt you too badly though…”

“Have you ever dueled before?” The professor’s expression was blank, which made Felix roll his eyes in annoyance, “We duel until one of us is disarmed, unable to fight, or if one of us yields.”

The swordsman walked over to the professor and handed her a training sword. She took a moment to swing it a few times in the air, and frowned, “Not as heavy as I thought it’d be, but it’ll work.”

“You got this, Fe!” Sylvain’s voice called out loudly.

Felix glared in Sylvain’s direction, “Shut up, I’m trying to focus.”

With that, Felix took the appropriate number to steps away from his opponent. When he was far enough, he took up his stance. Byleth, after watching him do so, took up a position that Felix had never seen before; where her weight was balanced on her toes and she held her sword closer to her body than normal, standing less like a swordsman and more like a dancer.

The groups watching went quiet as the two duelers stared at one another. Felix waited for her to flinch, but she stood as still as the stone columns around them, unblinking and maybe not even breathing.

Felix lunged for her, and right as the blade sailed through the air to strike her exposed side, there was a blur of dark blue and Byleth suddenly shifted behind him, giving him only a moment to roll out of the way before she could hit him over the back with her sword.

A collective gasp of amazement circled around the outside of the arena as Felix got to his feet quickly and lunged for her again. Their blades met with a loud _ crack _, again and again as Felix swung at the professor viciously. But to every blow he swung at her, she met with her own weapon or moved ever so slightly, just enough for him to miss less than an inch.

“Get him, Byleth!” Leonie cheered the professor’s name.

“Go Felix!” Sylvain’s voice rose above the ever-growing cheers from the sidelines.

Felix lunged for her again, but this time she rolled right under his arm and slammed the blade right into the back of his leg, nearly causing him to collapse.

Remembering a move taught to him, a very long time ago by his older brother, Felix rolled with the fall and was able to quickly get his footing once again. He spun around, and landed the first blow right on the professor’s wrist.

She hissed out a breath of pain, jumping backward to put distance in between the two opponents. The professor gingerly rubbed at her wrist with her free hand, and for a moment Felix felt a bit guilty over pulling that trick on her.

The groups around them grew quiet, all holding their breaths.

“Do you yield?” Felix stated.

Byleth Eisner didn’t respond, and then switched the hand that held the sword to her other, left to the right hand. Then she looked right at Felix, her expression neutral, and took up a different stance; her weight shifted to her heels and her sword held defensively.

_ What game are you playing, professor? _

The swordsman swung the wooden sword, aiming it at the professor, and lunged for her. She didn’t make any indication that she was going to get out of the way.

“Professor!” Dimitri cried out for the teacher, fear obvious.

As Felix ran for the professor, he briefly caught a glimpse of Byriel’s face watching from the sidelines; his expression wasn’t fearful or worried, not like Dimitri’s. In fact, he almost looked bored.

The sword swung at the professor, then suddenly Byleth let herself fall backward, missing the swing entirely in a roll back and then rebounding while he was off balance. Felix didn’t even see the blow as Byleth swung the sword and slammed it right into his in a flash of brilliant light.

_ Crack. _

The sword didn’t break entirely, but it was cracked beyond repair and the force was enough to cause Felix to fall backwards and painfully land on his back with a _ thud _.

He tried to get back up but was met with her sword an inch from his face. She stared down at him, her eyes two blue mirrors that reflected back his emotions rather than expressed her own. “Do you yield?”

Felix glowered at the professor for a long moment, but then he spat, “Fine, I yield.”

Byleth drew the sword back and then offered her hand to him. After a moment, Felix relented and let the professor pull him to his feet as the groups erupted into cheers and shouts of amazement.

“Professor, that was incredible!” Dimitri was beaming at the professor.

She gave a look to Felix, one of slight amazement interestingly enough, “I’ve never had that much difficulty with an opponent before. You’re very good.”

Felix blinked at narrowed his eyes at the professor, “What the hell are you going on about?”

“I actually thought I was going to lose there, that doesn’t happen a lot,” She almost smiled, “Let’s do this again sometime.”

Felix scoffed a bit, but he appreciated the fact that the professor wasn’t rubbing in her victory, “Oh, believe me, after that loss, I’m determined to defeat you. You seem like a worthy adversary, but know that I will beat you, and surpass your strength.”

Byleth nodded, “I look forward to that,”

Suddenly an arm wrapped around Felix’s neck, “Wh-?!”

Sylvain stood next to Felix, his height already making the somewhat short swordsman look even smaller, “Aw, I’m almost jealous of you two!”

Felix pulled harshly from Sylvain’s grasp and glared at the Gautier noble, “Don’t do that, you idiot!”

Sylvain threw his hands up in defense, “Aw c’mon, Fe! I was just kidding!”

Dimitri approached the professor with her twin following behind, the prince looking thoroughly amazed. Then again, Felix knew that it didn’t take much to impress Dimitri.

“Nicely done, By,” Byriel’s face remained neutral as he said it, “But you really need to be more aware of your surroundings so you don’t get hit like that!”

The female professor scrunched up her nose briefly in defiance.

“You were amazing!” Dimitri still had that stupid smile on his face, “I have no doubt that with you on our side, we’ll win the mock battle!”

Byleth turned her face away, seemingly embarrassed, “M-Maybe, yes.”

“Don’t count us out yet,” Claude ran up to Byriel’s side, “Strength is nothing without a clever mind behind it!”

Byriel gave a short nod, “He’s not wrong, By.”

She made a face, “You’ll never see us coming, By.”

“I didn’t know you had a Crest, either,” Dimitri continued, “I don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”

“Oh, that?” Byleth looked over at Byriel, “We’ve always been able to do that.”

Byriel shrugged, “It just happens sometimes, dad can do it too.”

Claude gave the twins a look, “Hold on, you do know what Crests are, right?”

The twins were silent, which Felix couldn’t help but find slightly amusing. How could the academy hire these two when they didn’t even know what one of the basic ways this world worked.

“Perhaps Professor Hanneman could help you,” Dimitri suggested, ever the polite and annoying one, “He’s a bit of an expert on the subject of Crests.”

“We might do that,” Byriel nodded.

“Crest or no Crest, we’re still going to beat you and the Black Eagles,” Claude threw out.

“Don’t count us out yet,” a female voice called from the entrance to the training grounds.

Everyone turned to see Edelgard, as well as her creepy valet Hubert, standing at the entrance. How long had she been watching?

“Edelgard!” Dimitri turned to the princess, surprised, “I didn’t even see you come in!”

“I wasn’t here long,” She admitted, “I just so happened to pass by and heard a lot of noise. We apparently missed quite a duel, but from what I did observe I was impressed with.”

Claude smiled at the princess broadly, “Afraid yet?”

“Not even a little,” Edelgard gave a somewhat sad look to the twins, “Shame you didn’t join our class.”

The twins gave each other a look, then looked back to Edelgard a bit sad, “I-It’s not that we didn’t want to, but-” Byriel started to explain, but trailed off.

“I take no offense,” Edelgard shook her head a bit, “While I am a bit sad not to see you as our professors, I do look forward to getting to know you this year.”

The words were friendly enough, however, Felix couldn’t help but get the sense that she was still disappointed. But it didn’t matter, not to him, there were more important things to worry about.

“Now then,” Claude spoke up, “We have a welcome party to throw! Care to join us, Edelgard?”

She shook her head, “Unfortunately, I have other matters to attend to. However, I am glad to have you both here at the academy with us.”

“We’ll save you some food?” Byriel offered, hesitantly.

As Edelgard began to leave, she gave a sly smile to the group. “I appreciate that, but I must decline. And don’t take the Black Eagles for granted; we may not have the professors on our side, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to lose the mock battle.”

Felix somehow doubted that but didn’t linger too much on the thought as the two groups began to file out of the arena and towards the dining hall.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

????

╚═════════ ∘◦ 👁 ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ There was only so much noise someone could take, a limit they had being around others before needing to step away. _ Especially when it came to this academy, and these students.

As the eager students made their way to the dining hall, slowly the arena became quiet until not a single person was left behind. It was completely empty, all for one of the groundskeepers, and a guard that silently slipped into the room amidst all the chaos.

The groundskeeper examined the broken sword, tracing their fingers over the cracks made in the solid wood, wondering who this professor was as the guard walked into the center of the room.

“Well, well, well! It seems that the new professor is quite strong!”

The groundskeeper frowned deeply at the voice, putting the sword aside and approached the guard in the center of the room, “What are you doing here?”

“Observing. Just like you and father told me to do,” The guard smiled, but it held no warmth or comfort, “I never thought I’d see someone like you here, Syn. What brings you this far away from the kingdom?”

“Keep your voice down,” Syn hissed sharply, “Are you trying to cause more trouble by giving away my identity?!”

“Who’s going to hear us?” The guard held out their arms and walked in a circle around the abandoned room, “Look around us, Syn, there’s not a soul in sight and everyone went to the dining hall. We’re completely alone.”

“Regardless, don’t reveal things you shouldn’t. Otherwise, I will turn your tongue to ash.”

The guard laughed, a high-pitched and almost metallic sound, “Oh, you won’t do that to me. I’m doing such a good job observing.”

“By observing, you mean you do a good job trailing behind one particular student,” Syn frowned, “Believe me, you never shut up about that.”

“Not necessarily,” The guard looked over their shoulder at Syn, “I also observe the people who associate with that special student. I know as much about them as I do about him. I can balance out watching them with watching him.”

Syn made a disgusted noise, “I will never understand your sick obsession, Valence.”

His smile widened at the sound of his name, “You never told me why you were here. I thought you would be in Faerghus?”

“I was, but I’m here on business for father,” Syn crossed their arms, “And I have a message for you with new instructions.”

“Oh? What could it be?” Valence stretched out his arms in the guard’s skin, his bones popping as he released the pressure on his joints, “It must be important if you’re the one to give it to me.”

“It’s simple, you are to watch the new professors closely. Find their weaknesses, and keep your head down, that is all.”

“Huh?” Valence whined, “All that for a boring list of chores?”

“And,” Syn said sharply, “You are to work with the Death Knight.”

Valence let out another whine, “_ Him? _ Why though? I’m so much stronger than he is and even more observant! Why do I have to be put with that masked sob?!"

“Perhaps you are stronger, but he’s already been with the academy long enough to gain the trust of the other students. You two are to work together and track the movements of one person here and them alone.”

“Which one?”

“He can tell you everything you need to know.”

Valence frowned, “Damn, it must be pretty important. Suppose I don't have much of a choice." 

“Good that you understand,” Syn said while walking past him, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important matters to get to.”

“You won’t stay?”

“I can’t stand being around this noisy place. Especially not while _ she’s _ here.”

“Oh?” Valence’s frown turned quickly into a smirk, “Are you perhaps jealous of her? You? Jealous? Of a minor Crest bearer?”

_ Fwoosh _

There was a puff of smoke, and Valence took several steps back as the spot he was standing at suddenly ignited into bright blue flames. The guard looked to Syn, laughing, “Well, that was a bit unnecessary.”

“You talk too much,” Syn walked toward the exit, ignoring the beast’s musings and picking a new skin. One that was similar to the guard that Valence wore, but one with a more handsome face.

As Syn walked away, she couldn’t help but look around at the students around her; all with their various faces, shapes, all different lives to slip into. But all of them were much too noisy for her liking.

But they wouldn’t be like that for long, no. The gears were being put in motion, and it brought a smile to her mask to imagine the screams and cries that would come from their throats when the time was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: And thus ends a new chapter, and introduces two of the villains Gremlin and I made for this story! Happy Thanksgiving everyone! We're so grateful to all of you who have read and left kudos, it makes us so happy! We'll try to get a new chapter up next week as well, but finals are slowly approaching for both of us so we may be busy. Fingers crossed!


	10. Chapter 9: Flames of Enmity

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Nine⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Flames of Enmity ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ While Byriel had stated before that the monastery would never be his home, the students were doing a very good job at convincing them otherwise. _ The welcome party planned by both the Blue Lions and Golden Deer was one of the biggest parties either twin had been to. Not that they had a lot of parties to compare it to, though, Jeralt and his mercenaries weren’t really the celebratory type, not even on birthdays.

But this was different; the kitchen made plenty of food to feed the two classes, there was excited chatter and people asking the twins many questions about their lives as mercenaries, and stories about the battles they had seen.

The twins sat next to each other and together answered questions when asked, but they were still a bit shy around the somewhat unfamiliar students. Thankfully, they did most of the talking amongst themselves and it gave both twins enough time to try some of the food. They had no favorite dish, but Byriel found that he liked the peach sorbet a little more than the rest

At the end of the night, after their bellies were satisfied and when the twins were low on energy, everyone pitched in to help the kitchen staff clean dishes before departing. By the time they were all dispersing, the sun was beginning to set over the monastery and bathe the walls and stone stairs of the building in a fiery orange and blood-red glow.

“I think Seteth said to talk to him about the room arrangements,” Byleth recalled, wiped at her mouth of any remaining crumbs.

“Might as well,” Byriel walked in that direction, his sister following close behind.

As they walked, their energy began to return. Not enough for any more conversations, but enough to a point where Byriel wanted to hide under a rock and sleep for a week straight. Byleth was the only person that he knew he could spend hours with and, usually, not want to kill. Mostly because they both rarely spoke, preferring the quiet.

The twins walked back through the reception hall and up the stairs, with Byriel forcing himself not to look at the audience chamber as they looked down the hall for Seteth’s office. Unfortunately, there were several doors.

“Which one is his?” Byriel asked to no one in particular, eyeing the doors and trying to guess which one could belong to the green man.

“Maybe this one?” His twin walked up to a door and gave a short knock.

Instead of Seteth answering the door, it was Professor Hanneman. He looked surprised to see both twins and smiled, “Why hello there!”

“Oh, sorry, we were looking for Seteth…” Byleth muttered, looking embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about that, Seteth is right over that way,” Hanneman pointed at a different door, “He’s gone out to do some errands, but he’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Darn, we missed him,” Byriel sighed.

Hanneman’s gaze looked thoughtful, then he spoke up, “Say… I’ve heard from the students that you two bear an unusual Crest of some kind.”

“That’s what Claude and Dimitri said, yes,” Byleth nodded, “But… we’re not really familiar with what that is.”

Hanneman looked surprised, “Truly?” The twins shook their heads, and Hanneman clasped his hands together, “Well, Seteth will be back in a few minutes, so while you’re here I can inform you. I even have a device I designed to determine what that Crest may or may not be. Won’t hurt a bit, promise.”

The twins glanced at each other, but only for a moment before Byriel shrugged, “Might as well.”

Hanneman’s face lit up. “Excellent! Come in!”

The twins walked into his office, which was kept very tidy and organized and smelled of old paper and books; a scent Byriel loved.

“Now, where to start…” Hanneman rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, “To tell you everything, absolutely everything, would take a while.”

“Tell us everything,” Byleth urged, “We want to know everything.”

“Go for it,” Byriel nodded in agreement.

The professor’s face somehow grew brighter, and he immediately gave the two as much information as he knew. And it was a lot, so thankfully it was a topic Byriel found interesting.

Crests were supposedly bestowed upon humans by the goddess herself a very long time ago, and exist within the flesh. A physical power that is passed down through bloodlines, and those who are born with Crests excel at things like magic, are given exceptional strength, and many other things. No Crest is the same, and the nature of how they work are, surprisingly, very scarce.

“And we have one?” Byriel asked, intrigued.

“I suspect as much, yes.”

Byleth looked to her brother, eyes wide with amazement.

“It is possible you don’t, however,” Hanneman continued, “As I said, Crests are passed down through the blood. Though just because someone carries a Crest, it does not necessarily mean their descendants will inherit it as well.”

“It’s not passed down that easily?” Byriel asked, surprised.

“No, in fact only a scarce few descendants of a Crest’s bloodline end up inheriting that Crest’s power. It is possible that one of your ancestors bore a Crest and you two just happened to inherit it,” Hanneman looked at each of the twins, curious, “Likely, only one of you has a Crest.”

“But Byriel is really good at magic and I can use that power with my sword techniques,” Byleth explained, “Couldn’t it be possible that we both have the same Crest?”

“It is possible, but it’s very rare. Then again, very little research is done into this study, so I’ve never come across a case with twins.”

Byriel looked to his sister in thought; he didn’t care if he had a Crest, and frankly, he didn’t want to think that his magic or any of his skills were the way they were because of some Crest. But… he couldn’t help but wonder what it could mean.

“Well, there’s one way to find out,” Hanneman gestured to a bronze disk on the floor, “Go ahead and hold your arms over this device here,”

Byleth looked at the disk suspiciously, “What does it do?”

“It won’t hurt, I promise that much,”

After a moment’s hesitation, Byleth held her arm out over the disk. A purple light began to glow, and after a moment, the shadow of her arm suddenly morphed into a different shape.

“What is this?!” Hanneman looked closer, his mouth hanging open in shock.

Byleth pulled her arm back, “Is everything alright?”

Hanneman looked to Byriel, nodding for him to do the same. Byriel made a face, not liking the look that the professor was giving him, but he complied and did the same thing. Again, the shadow cast by his arm morphed into the same shape; one of bending curls that seemed… familiar.

“I’ve never seen this pattern before…” Hanneman was staring at the twins with shocked amazement, “Is it possible that an as-yet undiscovered Crest has been detected in both of you?”

The twins looked at each other, surprised.

Hanneman suddenly beamed, “To think! There are still Crests out there that even I am unaware of! How thrilling!”

There came a knock at the door, and after Hanneman called for them to come in, they opened to reveal Seteth standing in the hall.

“There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you both. Your rooms are this way, come along.”

“Ah, pardon my unrestrained jubilation,” Hanneman looked at the twins again, “I have much to consider, you two may leave now. I have more research to do in regard to this Crest. Yes, so very much more research. But for now, your work here is done.”

The twins began to follow Seteth, all while hearing Hanneman excitedly wonder to himself.

“Hmm, what could this line here be indicating? Perhaps it represents a lack of symmetry… or perhaps… What in the world? Oh, I see… it may be connected to that, but to a greater degree than usual… ”

They didn’t hear the rest, and followed Seteth away from the office and down the stairs. Byriel instinctively looked at the arm that he had put over the device, wondering about that Crest. More importantly, how familiar it looked to him. But he had no idea how or why.

“What do you think it means?” Byleth asked her twin quietly so Seteth wouldn’t overhear.

“I have no idea,” He admitted, “But whatever it is, I wouldn’t be too concerned about. It doesn’t change who we are.”

“I guess you’re right,” Byleth nodded, but she still looked thoughtful.

Seteth led the twins down the stairs and towards a new building, one that was lined with several rooms and had a staircase at one end that went up.

“These are the students’ quarters,” He stated briskly, “To better help you supervise them, you also have rooms here. Byleth, yours is here on this end while Byriel’s is on the other end.”

Byriel looked to Seteth, surprised, “We get our own rooms?”

“Yes,” Seteth nodded, “Commoner students also reside on the first floor, while the second is primarily for students of noble birth.”

“Isn’t that kind of…?” Byriel gave Seteth a look.

“As a rule, we try to avoid discrimination based on social status here. But the nobility can be quite insistent when it comes to matters of propriety,” Then the advisor gave the twins a stern look, “Speaking of, it would be best for you two to avoid improper conduct. I expect you to set a good example for the students.”

The twins gave a look to Seteth, a bit annoyed that he would accuse them of being capable of such improper conduct. Though again, he was probably just trying to do his job.

"I expect you both to be up and ready early tomorrow morning for classes."

Byriel groaned in frustration, not looking forward to his sleep schedule being thrown in disarray. Even though he often spent several nights awake until almost dawn, he was never a morning person. Now he had to get up early every day for classes?

"I'll make sure he doesn't sleep in," Byleth assured Seteth quickly.

"I'm not _ that _ incapable of getting up on my own,” Byriel gave the two a look, feeling slightly insulted but knowing that she was right. In some regards, that is.

Seteth frowned, “It matters very little how you get up, so long as you make it to class on time.”

Byriel sighed a bit, “Got it.”

After a moment of hesitation, Byleth broke away from the group and walked to the door that led to her room. Leaving Byriel to follow Seteth down a flight of stairs and across the yard to a room closer towards a large greenhouse. Not entirely next to it, but close.

Seteth waited for Byriel to open the door and look inside, and the mercenary was genuinely surprised at the amount of space there was in the place that was to be his room; there was a simple bed, a desk with a chair, a few shelves with books lining them, and a large bulletin board. Simple, yes, but it was more than Byriel had ever had.

He looked out at Seteth, eyes wide with amazement, “This is really mine?”

The advisor looked at the mercenary with a look of confusion, “Er, yes. Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just bigger than I thought it’d be,” Byriel stated, “I’ve never had a room to myself like this.”

Seteth’s confusion morphed into slight concern, “What do you mean by that?”

Byriel shrugged, “I just mean that most of the time we slept outside. Whenever we did sleep in places like inns, we’d always sleep in the same room. Or on the floor, wherever they had space.”

The adviser's expression grew stern, “I see.”

Byriel immediately got the sense that the advisor was upset about something, though he didn’t know if he was disapproving of their mercenary lifestyle, or if it was a deeper reason. Maybe it was both, but ever since Byriel had met Seteth the advisor had seemingly looked at him and his sister like he was looking at two actual ghosts.

Before Byriel could muster up enough resolve to confront the topic, the advisor gave a short, curt nod and said, “Best you don’t sleep in.”

And with that, he left.

Byriel stood still, unsure what to do next for a moment before stepping into his room and continuing to stand clueless. It wasn’t like he had things to unpack, and there really wasn’t anything else to do until the morning, so really he had no other option other than to attempt to get to bed early.

Unfortunately, no matter how early he tried to go to bed, Byriel was more awake in the evening. Even with the comfort of the mattress and blankets around him, Byriel found himself wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

The silence of the room was driving him insane; a lifetime of listening to his father snoring and feeling the presence of his sister next to him had conditioned him so much that silence was more difficult to fall asleep to. He tried sleeping on his side, then on his stomach then walking the room a bit, but nothing worked.

By the time he had given up, the sky outside was a dark indigo and he could see the glimpse of the moon from the corner of his window, peeking out as if his insomnia was some kind of practical joke between the two of them. 

_ I wonder if Byleth can sleep in this? _ He squinted against the dim light. _ Probably, she can sleep through a battle. _

Still… it was worth a shot. And anything was better than this tomb-like silence.

Defeated, Byriel pushed back his covers, slid on his boots, and walked out the door and towards the stairs. Back the way to where Seteth had said Byleth’s room was. He stood in front of the door, his hand hovering over the wood, debating on whether or not he should knock.

Swallowing what little pride he had, he knocked on the door once, twice, but before he could knock a third time the door pushed open so suddenly it made him jump back a bit in surprise.

Byleth stood in the doorway, her armor discarded and her hair a mess, looking surprised to see her brother.

“Hey,” Byriel struggled with the appropriate greeting.

“Hey there…” Byleth pushed a piece of stray hair behind her ear, “Y-You’re up late.”

“So are you.”

“I… I couldn’t really sleep,” She admitted, almost embarrassed.

“Oh, is that so?” Byriel gave an awkward laugh.

The two stood quietly, both knowing what the other was going to ask but daring the other to speak first.

Byriel broke this time, “Hey so… it’s too quiet in my room.”

Byleth shuffled her feet a bit, “Same here.”

“Want some company…?” Byriel couldn’t help but sound a little bit hopeful.

Thankfully, his loyal twin gave him a soft smile and opened the door wider for him to walk inside.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Seteth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♗ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Enough dancing around the issue at hand _.

Seteth sat at his desk, though his mind was not focused on the work that lay before him in scattered piles. Not tonight. Not when there were bigger things to address. Rhea may have been willing to let bygones be bygones, but not him. The question now was if Jeralt was going to do the same.

After several, painfully long minutes, there came a brief, but loud, knock at his office door.

“You may enter,” Seteth called out to whoever stood on the other side.

The door opened, and Jeralt Eisner stepped into the room. The look he had was cold enough to freeze a person in their steps, but Seteth was unphased. Jeralt was intimidating, but he was nothing compared to Rhea on the rare occasions she lost her temper.

“So,” Jeralt crossed his arms, “You summoned me?”

“That I did.” 

The mercenary looked at Seteth with suspicion, “What seems to be the problem? It must be pretty dire if you had to call for me at this hour.”

The advisor exhaled a long, frustrated breath, “No, I would not call it dire. But given the hour, there is no need to keep up this facade.”

Jeralt’s expression grew stern, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Seteth.”

“I will not mince words, I thought you had perished in that fire twenty years ago with your children.”

The mercenary narrowed his eyes at Seteth as if he were a bandit he were about to cut down, “What gave it away?”

Seteth dug his fingers into the scars on his palms, “Besides you standing in front of me alive and breathing right now, the man who took your place did not match your height or physique upon examination. And further inspection on the cradle, the knights discovered bits of burnt bones. Bones that did not remotely match measurements for an infant.”

“Ah,” Jeralt huffed a hollow laugh, “I should’ve known that the knights would’ve done a thorough investigation.”

“Of course they would, especially when it regarded the murder of the Captain of the Knights of Seiros and his twin children,” Seteth’s gaze met Jeralt’s, two dark green fires that burned with a silent anger, “Who was the man that acted as your replacement?”

“He wasn’t one of yours, that much I can assure you. Then again, that hardly matters now,” Jeralt turned his back to Seteth, reaching for the door, “If that is all, then I would like to get what little sleep I can before dawn.”

“We’re not finished,” Seteth spoke, his voice edged with a warning.

Jeralt didn’t move, and not even a moment later there came another knock at the door.

“Expecting someone else?” Jeralt asked the advisor with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” Seteth rose to his feet, “You may enter.”

The door opened again, and in walked the knight Alois. His usual light-hearted expression was noticeably absent as he gave a brief bow to the advisor, “Seteth, I received your summon. Sorry I ran a bit late.”

Jeralt glared at the advisor, “You brought him into this?”

“I asked him to bring you here,” Alois stated, his tone slightly bitter.

A tense silence fell over the three, not too unlike the uneasy quiet that falls over a battlefield before an ambush.

Then Jeralt broke the silence, “So now that you have me here, what will you do? Will you execute me for abandoning the knights?”

“Wh- no!” Alois sputtered, the anger and betrayal obvious now, “I just- damn it Jeralt! I just wanted to know why the hell you did it!”

“Alois-”

“I thought you were dead for two decades! I carried the guilt of your deaths for years, I hunted for a killer that didn’t exist, I _ buried _you myself and I fought every accusation that labeled you a traitor!” Alois’s hands were shaking, “Why Jeralt?! Why did you let me believe that you were dead for twenty years?!”

The mercenary’s expression broke briefly into one of remorse. He let out a long sigh of defeat, and then stated simply, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Is that so? Do enlighten us on how exactly we wouldn’t understand your reasons,” Seteth spat the words, unable to hide his anger, “Tell me, what drives a person to fake his and his own children’s deaths and light a fire that nearly consumed the entire monastery?!”

“I’m a father.”

“You are a knight of Seiros!” Seteth threw back angrily.

Jeralt turned an accusing glare on the advisor, “I’m a father first and a knight second! Every single one of my actions has been for the sake of Byleth and Byriel, and I put them before my loyalties to Rhea or her knights!”

“And you burned the monastery, lied to us and made us believe you were murdered, for them alone?! No, I refuse to believe that it was your only reason! I did not risk my own life to save your children for someone who would do something so selfish!” Seteth shook his head, unable to accept this flimsy excuse Jeralt tried to pass for the truth.

Jeralt raised his chin defiantly, “My wife died because of the church. When she died, I swore that our children, our _ family _, would never have to live in the place that was responsible for her death. I fought for twenty years so they could live without that part of my life clinging to their backs!”

Alois’s jaw fell with disbelief, “Jeralt! How can you say something like this?!”

"I don't expect you to understand, Alois!"

"I'm a father too, Jeralt!" Alois threw back, "I understand wanting the best for your family, but why couldn't that be here with us?!"

Jeralt clenched his fists, "They needed a better future. One that the church could never give them."

The advisor ground his teeth, “A better future? What future, Jeralt? You threw away everything here for a life soaked in the blood of bandits and thieves, killing for scrap coin! They’re terrified of strangers and have spent their lives wandering with no home and little education! Do you really think that this life you’ve given them is better than any you could’ve had here?! I care not if you simply grew tired of being a knight and were resigned to live as a mercenary. I could even understand if being at the church was painful after her death. But you dare accuse the church of being responsible for your wife’s death, and make that your reasoning behind such a foolish and cowardly action?!”

Jeralt glared at the advisor, “I did what I knew was best for them.”

“What was best for them?! Are you mad?! How is _ this _ best for them?!”

The mercenary snapped, but he didn’t yell. He stared at the advisor, and he spoke in a low tone at first, “You have no right to judge my actions, Seteth. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand what it felt like to hold the most important thing in your life and be willing to die protecting it! You’re not a father, so you have no right to judge the actions of one!”

The words burned worse than the scars on his hands. They were a slap in the face, an insult that made the advisor’s blood boil with rage. He wanted to strike down this arrogant coward who dared to accuse Seteth of not knowing a thing, as if he were the only person on the goddess’s green earth who had lost someone and had carried that same weight.

But he couldn’t. Even though he had the words ready, they found no voice to grasp. Seteth quietly turned away from the two knights, unable to look at either of them. “... You’re right, Jeralt. I wouldn’t know.”

“Seteth…?” Alois spoke up, concerned at the sudden shift in the advisor’s tone.

Without saying another word, Seteth shoved past the two. He left his office and kept walking, ignoring Alois calling his name and heading to his private quarters without looking back. The words still stung, but he knew he couldn’t argue with Jeralt. He and Flayn had been playing this dangerous game of being out in the open, one single wrong step and the secret would be exposed and they would have to hide and start over.

Maybe their circumstances were not exact, but they were similar enough to make Seteth despise Jeralt and his actions. He loathed at how different, and yet how similar they were in those regards.

“Oh, brother!”

Seteth froze in his steps, his hand was on the door to his private quarters. He hadn’t even noticed Flayn standing just a few feet away. How long had she been there?

She made a face at him, “Are you working still? At this late hour? You really should rest more.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came to the surface.

“Is everything alright, brother? You seem troubled.”

The advisor straightened, “No, no everything’s alright, Flayn… just go back to bed.”

Flayn narrowed her gaze, not believing him for a moment, “Something _ is _ troubling you, isn’t it?”

Seteth wasn’t too shocked she didn’t believe him. As the years went by, Flayn only grew more perceptive to the excuses he made. Seteth gave a short huff, “It’s nothing you need worry about. I’m just a bit tired is all.”

While not completely satisfied, she did lessen her gaze, “You really shouldn’t work so hard, brother. You need rest like everyone else.”

“Of course,” he nodded to Flayn, “As do you.”

Flayn gave him a slight smile, “I’ll see you in the morning then, brother.”

“Yes, good night.”

As she started to walk away, there came a feeling of dread and pain that Seteth hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. The way she lectured him, could see right through him, it was so similar to her mother that it made Seteth’s throat close up and reach a hand out instinctively as if to stop her from vanishing into thin air.

“Flayn-?”

She stopped, turning to Seteth in surprise at the sound of her name, “Yes?”

He hesitated, unsure what to say now that he had her attention. What _ could _ he say now?

“Brother?”

“I-I…” He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, “You know that I will always be here to keep you safe, right? No matter what.”

Flayn looked at him, confused at the sudden statement, but then she smiled again, “Of course I know that.”

He nodded a bit stiffly, “Good, now, back to bed.”

She gave him another look, but only for a moment before she finally disappeared from his sight around the corner and back to her own room.

Seteth felt his heart sink in his chest at the sight of her leaving, and those same words returned; _ to hold the most important thing in your life and be willing to die to protect it _. He hated to agree with Jeralt and his reasonings, but he understood. More than the mercenary could ever know, Seteth understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: Oh boy, so originally the mock battle was in this chapter. But because it ran a little long we split it into two separate chapters. So in case anyone was confused as to what happened there, that's why XD


	11. Chapter 10: Friendly Competition

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Ten⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Friendly Competition ⋅ ✦

* * *

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

4/30

Great Tree Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Classes weren’t set to start until after the mock battle. _ However, just because classes were not in session yet, the twins were still kept on their feet with several meetings for the professors, going through course material and planning lectures. And with the little amount of spare time they did have, both twins spent it planning their strategy for the mock battle.

Planning a strategy, as well as getting to know the students a little bit better over meals shared together, becoming associated with the training grounds, and looking through the books they had in the monastery library. The library was something that Byleth noticed her brother taking a liking to, and it didn’t take too long for his room to have piles of books on the desk and cabinets.

Byleth read as well, if anything to put noble house names to faces, and reading a bit about the history of Fódlan, she was somewhat familiar with who her students were. Or at least, their families. It put more pressure on her to want to win the mock battle even more, as she didn’t want to disappoint them. Her room’s floor was scattered with different papers and rough drawings of potential strategies to go by, all in a specific way that made sense when she looked at it but would likely come off as nonsense to anyone else.

Still, she believed she had a plan. The Blue Lion house had students who were familiar with hand-to-hand combat like she was, so they had the advantage in terms of strength in case the fight got messy. The Golden Deer house was mostly made up of archers and the Black Eagles were made up of mostly magic users, so likely they would try to keep their distance from a direct confrontation.

By the time the end of the month rolled by, she was confident in her plan. The only thing she worried about was what her brother would also come up with; he was a strategic genius in her mind, always able to come up with a plan and backup plan in an instant. He wouldn’t go down easily, and he’d likely pull something as an attempt to surprise them. She was ready for that, though, and wouldn’t let him win.

On the morning of the mock battle, after eating as much fresh bread and jam as she could, Byleth waited in the reception hall for the rest of the professors and classes to gather. She was the first one there, and was likely a little too early, but she was too anxious to sit still and wait.

She wasn’t alone for too long, however, as someone else entered the hall and immediately spotted her.

“Ah, professor!” Dimitri walked up to her, looking fairly chipper. Though, she assumed that he was usually like that.

“Good morning,” Byleth nodded in acknowledgement to him.

“It’s finally time for the mock battle,” He smiled at her, “I’m eager to put my skills to use. And you, professor?”

“I’m looking forward to it, yes.”

That only made his grin widen, “Excellent. I have high expectations for your command. That said, I’ve no doubt it will take everything we’ve got to pull a victory. Our opponents are mighty, that much is certain. But I’m positive we can win.”

Byleth felt a bubble of anxiety form in her throat briefly, but she forced herself to look on a more positive outlook, “I’m certain we can. I have something in mind.”

“Do you?” The prince looked intrigued, “What plan did you have in mind?”

Before she could say anything, the reception hall doors opened again. This time, Byriel and Claude walked in. She didn’t catch their conversation much, but she could’ve sworn that she heard her brother say something along the lines of, “Don’t poison the students, they’ll know it was you.”

Claude looked over at the Blue Lion professor and gave that same sly grin, “Hey there! Did we miss our invite to this strategy meeting? Oh, no worries, we’ll just join in now.”

As he said that, the doors opened one last time and in walked Edelgard. She gave Claude a somewhat accusatory look, “I overheard the most fascinating conversation between you and your professor about poison. May we join?”

Dimitri looked at Claude disappointed, “Claude, I can’t believe you would stoop to such crooked schemes to gain the advantage! Have you no honor?”

The Golden Deer house leader chuckled, “If that was _ really _ my scheme, I wouldn’t be talking about it in the open. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until our battle to see what’s really in store. But the rest of you are more than free to share your own plans!”

“Nice try, Claude,” Dimitri turned to the Golden Deer house leader, “But I do not intend to let slip our strategies. Especially when we are up against such strong opponents as you two.”

“Well now! Kind words from his kingliness!” Claude looked to Edelgard, “And you?”

“Simply tell me your weaknesses, and you’re welcome to stay. But is there enough time to cover them all?”

Byriel scoffed a laugh, earning a slight look of betrayal from Claude and a smirk from Edelgard. Even Byleth briefly cracked a smile at the quip.

However, Claude didn’t wait too long before throwing back, “Ah, so you can’t win unless you know my weaknesses? Poor princess. You really should believe in yourself more.”

“I spare no effort when pursuing victory,” Edelgard raised her chin, “As a master of schemes, I should think you would understand.”

“Schemes? Us? I have no idea what you’re talking about! I plan to fight fair and square, as ever!”

Dimitri frowned and looked over at Byleth with slight concern, “Hearing the words ‘fair and square’ from Claude can only be a bad omen.”

“Your Highnesses haven’t known me for very long, but you already have me figured out, don’t you?”

“No need to poke fun,” Dimitri defended, “I will fight with honor. And I know best not to underestimate any of you.”

“Well now! Kind words from his kingliness,” Claude smiled widely, “If that’s the case, we’d better come up with something pretty clever so as not to disappoint. Right, princess?”

Edelgard crossed her arms and looked to the twins, “Right, but no matter the tactics either of you devise, it’s irrelevant anyhow. The best you can hope for is to learn a thing or two before we destroy you.”

Byleth looked to her twin, who’s eyes were wide with shock at her words. She looked serious, and Byleth really hoped that she wasn’t bitter over either twins picking Black Eagle House.

“There’s nothing wrong with a friendly rivalry, but let’s not get carried away,” Dimitri spoke up, not extremely surprised by the princess’s response but still a bit weary, “A rash attitude could be your undoing, after all.”

Edelgard tilted her head a bit, “Hmm, perhaps your time would be better spent preparing instead of worrying about the competition’s mindset.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment, both of them silently challenging the other.

“Hey, now!” Claude spoke up, breaking that tension swiftly like glass, “If you two are getting this fired up before the battle even starts, it’ll make it that much easier for our class to sweep up a win. So please, carry on.”

Dimitri sighed, “A good point, Claude. I apologize, that wasn’t my intention,” he turned his gaze to Byleth, “At any rate, let’s vow to make this a productive battle, shall we?”

Byleth looked to her brother, “I don’t intend to lose.”

He almost smiled, “So you have something planned for once?”

“I do, and it’ll crush you.”

“Bold words there, By.”

“You seem pretty confident.”

Byriel smirked a little, “Because I have a better plan that you’ll never see coming.”

“I know all your tricks,” She narrowed her gaze at him challengingly, “And I have a few of my own that you’ll be surprised by.”

“I always have new tricks, By,” He shrugged and looked over at Claude, “I guess we’ll just have to show her.”

The Golden Deer house leader gave a sly smile to him, “I suppose we have to now.”

Byleth gave a questioning look to her brother at the nature of the statement.

“I admit, I am rather eager to see what sort of schemes that your minds will conjure up.” Dimitri looked thoughtful, and also a little uneasy with the idea.

“You heard ‘em Teach. We can’t let these fine folks down.” Claude gave a wink to Byriel, making him frown slightly. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Good one, Teach, play innocent for now so they won’t see it coming.”

Byleth wasn’t sure if he wasn’t acting or not.

“We won’t hold back on either of you,” Edelgard smiled cooly at the twins, “I look forward to assessing you on the battlefield.”

Dimitri stood close to Byleth, surprising her a bit with the gesture, “Don’t take us lightly.”

“Aw, how precious. Looks like you and the students have become fast friends!” The group turned to see Manuela and Hanneman walking towards the group.

Hanneman looked to the twins, “While I am pleased that you are taking the initiative to acquaint yourself with the students, I’m afraid it’s about time for the faculty strategy meeting.”

“Right, I almost forgot about that,” Byriel admitted. 

“How time flies!” He gave another grin to Byleth’s brother, “In that case, I’ll see you later.”

Byriel nodded an agreement as the house leader left.

Edelgard gave another look to the two, and that same uncomfortable tension returned.

“Edelgard, we-” Byleth began.

“I look forward to assessing your abilities. I hope you don’t disappoint.” 

And with that, she turned and left.

Manuela and Hanneman looked at each other, slightly concerned, then to the twins, “Is everything alright?” Manuela asked.

Byriel’s mouth formed a straight line, “Yeah, it’s fine. Let’s get to that meeting, alright?”

Dimitri, who was the only one left behind, looked to Byleth with concern. But he really couldn’t do anything, so he sighed a bit, “I’m sorry, Professors. It’s about time I returned to my training anyway. Until we meet again on the battlefield, farewell.”

Byleth nodded, “Right.”

With that, the prince left and the twins followed the professors to the audience chamber once again for the meeting. Still, Byleth felt guilty over the interaction with Edelgard and hoped to talk to her genuinely later.

Byleth’s mind raced, going over everything that had happened along side the battle to come, that she almost missed the rules laid out; the students would be equipped with training weapons, including Byleth and Byriel, as to avoid any serious injuries. Students were allowed to strike at one another, but the moment someone in a fight yielded they were required to stop or face consequences.

The last rule, of course, was that the house that defeats the other two is declared the winner.

Seteth, in an attempt of being fair, assigned random locations for each class to start at. He let the professor look over a map of the area, but he didn’t disclose exactly where each class would be positioned so that no professor could give their own team an advantage. Also in the spirit of fairness, the classes were only allowed to choose up to three students, not including the professors and house leaders.

Those decisions were made privately, of course, so Byleth put in the names of Felix, Mercedes, and Dedue for their team. When the decisions were made, the groups headed out to the outskirts of Garreg Mach Monastery. The weather that day was warm and only slightly windy, which posed some concern in terms of Golden Deer’s archers. Still, Byleth loved the feeling of the early morning sun on her face and the light wind. It helped chase away the nerves she still carried.

As she walked to the Blue Lion’s position on the field, Dimitri matched her speed and spoke up, “I-I apologize if Edelgard said anything to upset you, professor.”

“Oh, n-no, it’s alright,” Byleth held her training sword tightly in her grip, “I didn’t take any offense to that, really. Honestly, I can’t blame her for being a little angry.”

He sighed a bit, “Neither can I.”

There was a beat of silence, then Byleth straightened, “Anyway, we can’t worry about that for too long. We have a battle to win.”

“R-Right,” He nodded, “I’ve been curious to hear what you had in mind for our strategy, professor.”

Byleth looked over the field, trying to get a good look at where everyone might be. She could make out the faintest glimpses of movement closer towards the center of the field, and had to guess that the last team was somewhere hidden. She knew the layout of the land, the Blue Lions stood at the furthest lower right-hand side of the field, but wasn’t completely sure where the other teams were. Still, the plan remained the same.

“We start by going east,” Byleth pointed in the direction, “Instead of engaging the bulk of the enemies, we’ll go after each house one at a time.”

Dimitri thought for a moment, “A defeat in detail tactic then… ” He looked troubled.

“You’re thinking the same thing as me, right? That they’ll use the same plan?”

“N-Not necessarily, but it is possible. I’ve used that tactic before, and it works well. Though it can also go wrong very quickly.”

“Right, which is why the people I chose will be important.”

“What do you mean by that professor?”

Byleth looked at the prince, “Did you notice the people on our side?”

Dimitri looked over at the students; Dedue, Felix, and Mercedes, as they walked across towards the two.

“You and Dedue are physically stronger, so what I’m thinking is that you both take the front lead and draw their attention. Felix and I are faster on our feet, so while they’re distracted we can take care of the archers in Golden Deer. Mercedes has a bow in case we need it, but she will primarily be patching up any injuries,” Byleth pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear, “It’s something I learned from one of my father’s battle stories. His mercenary group was outnumbered, but they had the advantage in terms of strength so they attacked each smaller force one-by-one, the tougher ones in front while the smaller and faster mercenaries snuck around the back; we may have a disadvantage in terms of long-range, but we have an advantage in strength and close combat.”

The prince’s face lit up, “I see! A defeat in detail tactic along with double envelopment!”

Felix crossed his arms, “I admit, that sounds plausible, but will they fall for it?”

“Even if they don’t fall for it, we still have the advantage in terms of strength,” 

Mercedes looked over the field, an expression of concern on her face, “What about Black Eagle House?

Dimitri looked to the swordsman, “If we can just get close enough, we could overwhelm them. A lot of them are magic users, so if we can surprise them it should be easy to take them all down.”

Felix frowned, “Right, and you’d know a lot about a tactic like that.”

The group suddenly fell quiet at those words, and for a moment the prince looked hurt. But he quickly rebounded and looked to Byleth, “I believe it’s the best plan we have. I trust that it’ll work, professor.”

As he said it, there came the sound of a horn blaring over the field.

“It is about time for the battle to begin,” Dimitri looked to Byleth, “Our victory depends on your leadership. Do not let us down.”

Byleth nodded, determined to win.

When the horn rang out a second time, the Blue Lion house split into two groups; Dimitri and Dedue going first with Felix, Byleth, and Mercedes trailing behind as they advanced east.

All the while, Byleth felt on edge as she scanned the battlefield for any sign of her brother. But there was no sign of him as they moved east and around, careful to remain out of sight as they slowly approached the center of the field. Byleth, Felix, and Mercedes quietly waited from a good distance as Dimitri and Dedue got closer to a few reinforced barriers.

Then immediately, Dimitri rolled out of the way as a training arrow sailed through the air and hit the ground right by his feet.

“Aw you missed that!”

Byleth could see Claude facing Dimitri, twirling an arrow between his fingers.

The prince pointed his training lance at the noble as Raphael broke from the bushes and ran for Dedue, yelling a fierce battle cry. Dedue, still an imposing force, was able to endure as Raphael threw a blow to the man’s chest.

“Stay focused,” Byleth whispered quietly to Felix, indicating him to follow. Felix did as asked, with Mercedes staying a safe distance behind.

As the two advanced, Byleth saw her brother run from the same bushes and take a swipe at Dimitri. He managed to block the attack mostly, but still took a step back.

“Psst, Your Princeliness,” Claude gave a wink to the prince, “You’ve got a thing for Edelgard, right? Come on, fess up. You’ll feel better.”

Dimitri frowned, “Claude, please. This is no time for idle banter. Your defenses are wide open!”

“That didn’t get to him, huh?” The noble frowned, “What a shame, I’ll find a better way to ruffle him up next time.”

The prince tried another swing at Claude, only to get blocked off by Byriel’s sword.

“We knew that you brutes would go after us first,” Claude mused, “C’mon, after all that big talk this morning I would’ve expected something smarter!”

Dimitri couldn’t help but give a slight smirk as he caught the briefest glimpse of Byleth and Felix sneaking right behind the two.

Byriel saw the look, and his eyes suddenly went wide, “Wait where’s-”

“Should’ve kept your guard up,” Byleth smiled as she lunged for Byriel.

Her brother spun around on her, startled, “Holy fu-!”

Byleth swung her blade down, getting her brother across the shoulder before he rolled out of the way and drew his own training sword up. Claude spun, managing to get to the ground quickly as Felix went after him.

“How’s this for a clever scheme, Claude?” Dimitri laughed a bit as he ran for the noble.

Claude made a break for the bushes, barely missing a hit from Dimitri, and running further back as Byriel desperately tried to fight off his terrifying sister. Byleth kept swinging at him, and heard the satisfying _ thud _ of Dedue landing a solid blow to Raphael.

Raphael grunted and as badly bruised as he was, he made a run for the furthest part of the field. The same direction that Claude was still running from.

“Keep advancing!” Byleth ordered, taking another swipe at Byriel.

Her twin hit the ground in a roll, trying to escape her and also make a run for the bushes. 

“Pull back, Teach!” Claude yelled for Byriel, looking afraid for the teacher’s safety as he ran.

He hesitated as he saw Felix going in that same direction, and gave a look to Byleth.

“Well, I’ll admit that I didn’t see that coming.”

Byleth smiled at him, “I told you, I don’t lose.”

Byriel raised his hand at her, causing her to instinctively flinch at the threat of a fire spell. Then she wanted to kick herself for doing so; Byriel, no matter how much she annoyed him, no matter if it were a fake battle or a real one, would never cast fire on his sister. Jeralt had made it clear when her brother took up an interest in magic that he was to never use it on his sister, and he always kept that promise.

And in that moment, he made a run for the trees. But before Byleth could pursue him, Dimitri yelled, “Professor, on your right!”

She didn’t think she just moved, right as a training arrow bounced off the tree she was standing at just a moment before.

“What the?!”

Byleth turned, and saw that several yards away was Bernadetta hiding in the bushes. Right as she made the connection, Dimitri let out a cry of pain. She looked, and saw Ferdinand standing with a lance over his head.

The professor ran for him, surprising the noble and getting him in the back. Ferdinand let out a cry and moved back.

“Are you okay?” Byleth approached the prince, who was rubbing at his shoulder.

“Y-Yeah, it’ll leave bruises though.”

Byleth scanned the area, looking for Mercedes but not finding her. Panic settled in as she realized that she had lost their healer.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Dimitri drew her attention back to Ferdinand, and shortly joining him was Edelgard, “We have bigger things to worry about.”

Thankfully, Felix appeared from the bushes and went to Byleth’s other side, looking annoyed, “Claude made a break for the bushes. But I managed to get a good hit on him.”

“We’ll worry about Golden Deer later,” Byleth raised her sword at Ferdinand, “Felix, I need you to go after Bernadetta. She’s in those bushes over there and she’s got a good aim.”

He nodded, “I can do that.”

Dimitri looked to Byleth, determined, “I can go after Edelgard, you and Dedue can take care of Ferdinand.”

“Are you sure?” Byleth was doubtful, she had seen Edelgard when they fought in Remire Village. The princess was a force to be reckoned with.

He nodded, “Trust me.”

Felix gave her a subtle shake of his head, discouraging the plan silently.

“Go ahead, but I can take down Ferdinand on my own. Dedue, you go with him.”

Dimitri and Dedue gave a nod of approval, and made a run for the princess. Felix gave a short glare to Byleth, but then he ran for the bushes.

Byleth raised her sword at Ferdinand, who had that same slightly arrogant smile on his face as he sized her up.

“I will stop you here and now, professor!” He announced proudly.

She lunged at him, and amazingly he managed to get out of the way and slam his lance’s edge right into her side with a dull _ thud _. She let out a grunt of pain, taking a few steps back as her insides felt like they were being rattled. The training weapons, while not sharp or deadly, still hurt.

Ferdinand lunged for her again, but Byleth was able to roll out of his way and dart behind him. Before he could register the movement, she swung her sword into his leg much like she had done so to Felix. The noble let out a cry, only to get another hit to the shoulder.

But he was still a noble, trained to fight, and immediately Byleth had to pull back to avoid getting clubbed in the face with the lance.

Ferdinand rose to his feet, rolling his shoulder briefly and going in for another attack. She rolled again, but instead of going behind him she got as close as she could, effectively confusing Ferdinand and forcing him to step back in an attempt to make space. This time, she made another hit right to his arm, effectively disarming him of his weapon and defeating him.

“I am the son of House Aegir! How did I fail? I must need to train harder…” Ferdinand looked genuinely disappointed as he backed out of the fight.

As Byleth watched him go, she saw that Felix was still trying to go after Bernadetta, visibly frustrated as he pursued her.

“Stop running around!” Felix snapped.

“No! P-Please don’t kill me!”

“I’m not going to kill y-”

As he almost caught up to her, Bernadetta darted behind him, flailing her arms, knocking into Felix’s sword arm and causing him to drop it. Effectively disarming him.

Both Felix and Byleth stood with their eyes wide and jaws open. _ Did she just disarm Felix? _

“My sword! How did you-”

“I can’t do this anymore!” Bernadetta screamed, running and dropping her bow in the process. Effectively… disarming herself.

Felix watched her run, then gave a look of dumbfounded to the professor as one of the observers of the battlefield called out, “Bernadetta and Felix, you were both disarmed. You must yield.”

The swordsman looked irritated, but also he looked somewhat thoughtful. Sadly, Byleth couldn’t linger too much on the thought as she turned her attention towards Edelgard, running to join Dimitri and Dedue as they took the occasional hit at her.

However, Edelgard took a nasty swipe at Dimitri. Grazing him, but causing him to back up with a look of brief shock.

“Dimitri, it’s time!” Edelgard swung her training axe in her hand, “We can finally settle the question of who’s stronger!”

The prince narrowed his gaze at her fiercely, “Very well. I accept your challenge. With you as my opponent, I won’t hold anything back!”

“I would expect no less!”

As the two collided, suddenly Dedue let out a cry and fell to the ground stunned.

Byleth spun around, just in time to see a ball of miasma race at her. She managed to get out of the way, and spotted Hubert standing just a ways off.

“You’re rather fast, professor,” He smirked a little.

Dimitri shoved Edelgard back a bit, only for her to be briefly enveloped in a pale light that healed her wounds. From a little ways behind, Manuela stood at the ready. Her hands glowed a bit with healing magic.

“Damn it…” Byleth looked to Dedue as he desperately tried to get up. Likely he couldn’t take another hit like that again, “How the hell did this turn so badly?”

Dimitri looked at the enemies left, just as puzzled as she was, “We should’ve had the advantage!”

Edelgard smirked a bit, “Well, originally we were going to chase down Hilda. But we just so happened to come across you.”

Byleth felt her throat go tight, “Wait… Hilda from Golden Deer?”

“Who else would that be?” Edelgard gave a look to Byleth, “Why?”

Manuela looked around the field, confused, “Now that you mention it, where is Hilda?”

Suddenly, it dawned upon her in a cold shock as she realized just what the hell had happened.

“Where’s the Golden Deer House?” She asked to no one in particular.

A silence fell over the remaining five students and professor as reality suddenly dawned upon them that they were missing a house. In fact, the entire Golden Deer house had been rather quiet.

_ Byriel, you sneaky dastard. _

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Earlier that morning… _

_ One of Byriel’s earliest memories as a child was lining up pine cones and sticks in the dirt, pretending they were small armies _. Ultimately, strategy was nothing more than a game of wits to him. It always came down to being smarter than the opponent.

As Byriel ate breakfast that morning, his head ran through the different scenarios he had come up with over the years. The various different methods and tactics to use, some blurring into new ideas for him to use as his weapon.

“Morning, Teach!”

Byriel looked up, his face covered with bread crumbs, as Claude slid into the seat across from him. The mercenary wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and swallowed his food.

“Hello.”

“So, time for the mock battle, eh?” Claude gave him a look that Byriel had started to refer to as his ‘scheming face’, and smiled, “How should we go about this?”

“You’ll see.”

“Aw, not gonna tell me?”

“I can’t tell you what I have planned when we’re in the dining hall, Claude.”

“Fair enough,” Claude tilted his head a bit, “Well, care to share what you have outside then?”

The mercenary shrugged, “Sure.”

It only took a few moments for Byriel to quickly clean up his plates and meet with the house leader by the doors leading to a small area with benches and trees outside the dining hall.

“You seem pretty set on winning, Teach.” Claude noted somewhat obviously.

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not every day I get the chance to try my skills against Byleth and have it be something I’m actually good at.”

The noble chuckled, “I take it that means you have some kind of scheme in mind?”

Byriel looked to the house leader, completely serious, “I came up with at least six plans before breakfast, Claude.”

There was a moment of silence, then Claude burst out laughing, “I like the way you think, Teach! Glad that we got the smart twin on our side!”

Byriel blinked, speechless. Byleth had complimented his intelligence many times before, but to hear this… this scoundrel compliment him? Why did it make him want to punch the noble in the face and run away and hide at the same time?

“Right, I’ll do whatever I can to help too. I mean, I’m kind of obligated to. For example,” He smirked a little, “If I add a little something to their food to upset their stomachs…”

That snapped Byriel out of his haze very effectively. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, wink, wink. I read you,” Claude had that scheming face again, “You can’t officially condone that sort of thing, right?”

“Don’t kill your classmates.”

“Right. But say, hypothetically, students from the other houses started racing to the infirmary…”

“_ Claude _,”

“As far as anyone knows, it could just be a harmless little stomach bug making the rounds!”

Byriel rolled his eyes, propping the reception hall door open for them to walk through, “Please, if the entire Blue Lion and Black Eagle house suddenly get ill from poison, they’ll know it was you. We don’t need to give ourselves that handicap anyway because I have a plan on how we’re going to win.”

“How boring,” Claude smirked a little, “So enlighten me, what did you have in mind?”

Byriel gave a sly little smile himself, “Something sneaky.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to discuss his plans until he reached the outskirts of the field. Even more unfortunate was that the Golden Deer had been placed at the worst position from a tactical standpoint; dead center in the middle of the field and directly in the paths of Blue Lions and Black Eagles.

Then it got worse.

“She has Mercedes,” Claude scanned over the field, catching the barest glimpse of the Blue Lion house, “Crap, I also see Felix and Dedue.”

Byriel scowled as he dragged the tip of his finger in the dirt, “I’m not surprised. What about Black Eagles?”

“I see Bernadetta and Ferdinand,” Hilda announced, swaying carelessly on her heels.

Byriel finished his dirt drawing, “Alright, let’s get this down quickly.”

His group, consisting of Lysithea, Hilda, and Raphael gathered around the drawing in the dirt. Byriel had only gotten a short glimpse at the map of the field, but he was able to draw a rough shape from what he remembered.

Claude made a frustrated noise, “Odds don’t look too good on our end. We’re sitting ducks here.”

“Right, but we still have this open space,” Byriel gestured to the area beyond their terribly constructed defense barrier.

“That doesn’t change the fact that Black Eagles and Blue Lions are going to go after us first!” Hilda whined a bit.

“I know, and that’s what I’m counting on.”

The students looked to their teacher, questioning his sanity. He smiled a bit, “Here’s what I’m going to need you to do.”

“Okay…?” Claude looked intrigued.

Byriel looked to Hilda, “I need you to go and draw Edelgard and Bernadetta’s attention.”

“Draw their attention?” Hilda asked, confused.

“This is a lucky guess, but Edelgard got a bit fired up at today’s meeting. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I get annoyed by someone I love nothing more than to try and get even.”

Claude smiled a bit, “Okay? Go on.”

Byriel drew his stick across the dirt, “This part of the field has good cover, so I want Lysithea to hide in these bushes over here and wait. Hilda, you get the attention of the Black Eagles on this side and bring them closer to the middle of the field.”

The smaller girl looked at the professor, wanting to hear more. Even Hilda looked at the dirt drawing with some kind of interest.

“What about Blue Lions?” Raphael asked, peering over Byriel’s shoulder.

“The rest of us are going to distract them, maybe shake up their formations a bit. Raphael, try to get a hit in on Dedue and get him to go after you.”

“Why?”

“You’re fast, and I need you to get him as close as you can to Hubert’s side.”

Claude looked over at Byriel, “I don’t think Dedue will get that far. I can lure Hubert to our end with a few arrows.”

Byriel looked up at Claude, liking the idea better, “Can I count on you to do that?”

“Of course, if this plan is what I think it is.”

The professor smiled a bit, “In that case, Raphael, you just need to get a few good hits on Dedue and get back behind the treeline.”

Lysithea looked up at Byriel, eyes wide, “Wait, are you suggesting…?”

“We’re going to lure the Black Eagles and the Blue Lions into fighting each other. Because they’re both likely to strike Golden Deer first, we have the advantage in getting them to chase us right into the other enemy’s forces. And before the dust settles, when they’re good and beat up-”

“Ambush!” Claude laughed, nearly making Byriel jump out of his skin.

“Do you really think it’ll work?” Hilda asked.

“Positive.”

“I’m all for it, let’s do it!” Claude looked determined.

“Right then,” Byriel rose to his feet and looked at his students, “When the time is right, I will strike first. The rest of you follow suit, pick an enemy and go for them.”

The students looked at each other, their spirits raised. Byriel only hoped that this plan worked as well as he anticipated it to.

And, for the most part, the plan worked beautifully. Minus the parts where Byleth nearly smashed his head in with a wooden sword and where Felix almost completely killed Claude. It was also easy to get the drop on Mercedes, thanks to Claude and his light footsteps, she was out of the fight before she could really do anything. Byriel felt a little bad when he did poke the girl in the back, effectively eliminating her, but she seemed to understand that it was nothing personal.

The moment Byriel got away from his sister, he ducked behind the bushes and took a moment to catch his breath. Shortly afterwards, Claude quietly made his way next to the professor.

“Hey, made it,” He said quietly, still smirking despite looking worn out from running. 

Byriel was impressed, “I would’ve thought Felix killed you.”

“Nope, but he got close. How’s it looking out there?”

As he had said that, he heard Bernadetta screaming.

“Uh… pretty good so far?”

Claude quietly looked over a few bushes, “Alright… they’re getting close to where we want them.”

As he did, Byriel noticed that the fabric over Claude’s left knee was torn and the skin was bloody.

“What happened there?”

“Oh, that?” Claude shrugged, indifferent, “I tripped while trying to get away from Felix and scraped it up a bit.”

Without really asking, Byriel raised his hand at Claude’s injury. In a small flash of light that, thankfully, caught no one’s attention, the wound was closed up and no longer bleeding.

The noble gave a look to Byriel, “You didn’t need to do that, Teach.”

“You need two legs to run.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Claude spoke a little coldly, “Look, don’t worry about that. I can take care of myself.”

“I hear that sentence every day, Claude. It doesn’t keep me from patching up wounds.”

The two were quiet, long enough for Byriel’s ears to pick up his sister’s voice asking about the whereabouts of the Golden Deer house.

“That’s our cue.”

Claude readied his bow, “Ready?”

Byriel tightened his grip on his sword, “There’s really no other option but to be ready.”

“Fair enough.”

And with that, Byriel broke from the bushes with a yell, lunging for the closest person he could find. Which just so happened to be Dimitri. The prince didn’t even see Byriel coming, and was completely unable to do anything as the professor slammed his sword right into the prince’s chest. Dimitri cried out in pain, backing away as best he could. Dedue ran for the prince’s side, only to get another blast of miasma courtesy of Lysithea from her safe position.

A resounding battle cry rang out from the bushes as Raphael burst from his hiding spot and ran straight for Hubert. The mage hadn’t anticipated the attack, and was successfully tackled by the burly student and slammed right into the ground.

“Got ‘em!” Raphael yelled proudly.

“You-!” Hubert struggled against Raphael, but alas, he wasn’t even remotely strong enough.

At the same time, Hilda ran out of her hiding spot, getting the drop on Manuela. The professor let out a shriek as the pink haired girl landed a blow strong enough for the teacher to back away and hold the sore spot on her stomach.

“See, professor? I’m not that useful.”

“I almost wound up a patient in my own infirmary.” Manuela sighed, displeased.

Claude fired a training arrow right at Byleth, but she quickly dodged out of the way and glared at him, “So, this is your scheme?!”

“Nope! It was all Teach’s!” Claude fired another training arrow at the professor, who dodged once again.

“Damn it, I should’ve known you would’ve pulled something like this!” Byleth glared at Byriel, who smirked a bit.

“I told you, By, you weren’t going to see us coming! Get her, Hilda!”

“Ugh, more work? Fine, I guess.”

With that, Hilda ran across the field. Byleth was able to raise her sword to block Hilda’s axe. However, as Byriel had found out in the week with his students, Hilda was a lot stronger than he gave credit for. And Byleth had no idea, and was visibly struggling against the girl and got knocked back. Hilda swung her axe at Byleth. The professor had to get out of the way, but not before raising the sword to block the attack. There was a loud _ crunch _, and the sword completely broke in two. Disarming her.

“Wh… no way.” Byleth looked shocked.

“Hilda! Hilda! Hilda!” The pink-haired girl cheered.

As much as Byriel wanted to enjoy the moment, Claude yelled out, “Heads up, Teach!”

Byriel ducked, barely missing Edelgard swinging her axe at his head. Byriel felt his pulse skip as he raised his sword to fight back against her.

“Careful! Don’t leave a scar on the princess’s face!”

“Not helping, Claude!” Byriel cried, trying to hold his stance against Edelgard’s furious attacks.

The princess was much like Hilda, far stronger than she looked and this time she was certainly fueled by anger. The axe cut through the air harshly and savagely, almost clipping Byriel multiple times. He ducked and weaved, but she was as fast as she was strong and didn’t give him a moment to breathe. And then he backed onto uneven ground and lost his balance, falling to the ground and having the wind knocked out of him. Before he could even hope to sit up, Edelgard was on him, ready to knock her axe into him with brute force or scare him into yielding. He still had his sword after all.

Looking up at her face, it almost reminded him of his dream.

_ Do you remember the Red Canyon? _

Byriel, thankfully, had been in situations like this before when he sparred with her sister. She had always been the stronger one, easily knocking him down when they were children while he was busy reading books and refining his magic skills with a fine-toothed comb. He had strategies to get his much stronger twin off of him and that was to take away one of her senses so he could get the advantage, if only for a moment. After all, it only took a second to win a battle, you just needed to know how to play your cards right to make your enemies fall down like a house of them.

He gripped the ground below him and thrust it upward, throwing dirt into Edelgard’s face.

She yelled out and backed up, covering her eyes, “Did you just-?!”

“I did,” easily, he maneuvered himself out of the way of her axe and tapped her back with the sword, calling her out.

Edelgard wiped her face, fury in her eyes, “That was a dirty trick.”

“There are no rules on the battlefield,” Byriel cracked his neck, his back still aching from the pain of slamming into the ground, though admittedly he was more grateful he didn’t hit his head, “Therefore, everything is allowed. Every trick, tactic, dirty or otherwise. And that’s something you need to learn if you’re going to be my student.”

She frowned, confusion pooling in her violet eyes, _ “Your _student?”

“Yes,” Byriel nodded as the horns blasted the end of the mock battle, giving her a smile, “I’m going to ask to be your teacher’s assistant, I don't want to leave you in the dust. By the time this year ends, dirt in your eyes won’t be the thing to stop you on the battlefield.”

Edelgard stared at him, at a loss for words. The Golden Deer cheered around Byriel, congratulating each other as hope was in the air. Even Byleth smiled, seeming proud of her brother’s achievements.

And there was Claude, his green eyes widened as he looked at his professor in a different light as the sun began to set around them, the evening hues giving Byriel an aura of fiery dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: So because chapter nine ran really long, like almost thirty pages long, I thought it was best to split it into two chapters. Anyway, this was a lot of fun to write, and holy cow there's so many of you now! It makes us so happy to have you all here! We'd love to interact with all of you more, so... would anyone be interested in a discord? :>


	12. Chapter 11: New Alliances

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Eleven⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ New Alliances ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ The moment Byriel was back at the monastery, he approached both professor Hanneman and Manuela. In fact, he had practically ran to meet them in the reception hall to ask them his burning question, pushing past Claude and his sister before they could congratulate him. _

“You wish to be our assistant teacher?” Hanneman looked surprised.

“Yes,” Byriel nodded, as earnestly as he could.

Manuela looked a bit concerned with the request, “Aren’t you worried about the amount of work you’ll have then? You will be looking over two separate classes.”

“Now, Manuela,” Haneman almost scolded her, “He seems like a smart young man, and it’s not like we will be giving him all the work. _ Right _?” 

He made sure to emphasize that last part.

Manuela made a face, “Of course not! What do you take me for?!”

“I don’t mind more work,” The mercenary ensured, “I’m good with sorting papers and keeping things organized.”

Hanneman looked back to Byriel, “I’m not doubting your ability to take on a little extra work, it’s more to do with what Lady Rhea thinks.”

Byriel felt his stomach drop, remembering that it wasn’t Hanneman or Manuela’s ultimate decision to make. 

“We will ask her when we see her next,” Hanneman smiled at Byriel, “But for now, do not worry about that. Enjoy your victory for Golden Deer House. It seems that someone is waiting for you!”

Before he could ask what Hanneman was talking about, he turned and immediately spotted Claude waiting for him on the other side of the reception hall. Since the issue was out of Byriel’s hands, he really couldn’t act any further. So he departed from Hanneman and Manuela, and approached Claude who, again, had that scheming face again.

“Great work, Teach! That was a brilliant win!”

“Yeah…” Byriel nodded, “Everyone did well.”

“Huh, playing ignorant as to the quality of your command and deflecting the praise to your students? You really are a model professor, Teach.”

Byriel was speechless, his tongue suddenly feeling very dry. That same desire of running away came back, making Byriel feel both angry and embarrassed at the same time.

“To be honest, I had a bunch of other schemes planned as well, just in case the situation called for it.”

“Like what?”

The noble had a wicked smile on his face, “Don’t worry about that right now.”

“Claude.”

“Nothing that would’ve done _ too _ much damage to the other classes.”

“_ Claude _.”

There was that scheming face again, “Hey, I didn't have to resort to any of them. I suppose our opponents lucked out!”

Byriel’s mouth formed a straight line of disapproval, “Just… just save those plans for the actual dangers, not your classmates.”

“Fine,” He smirked a bit, “You threw dirt into Edelgard’s face…”

Byriel felt a bit guilty over that, but he also wanted to laugh at the fact that he, Byriel Eisner, threw dirt into the eyes of Adrestia’s future emperor and survived.

Claude started laughing, almost to the point of tears, “Her face was priceless, and the look Dimitri had was just as good!”

Byriel smirked a little, “Yeah I guess it was kind of funny…”

“Very funny, I never see those hard asses let loose. Funny, I never took you for the troublemaker type. A smartass, sure. A hardass? Definitely. But the stuff you pulled today? I wasn’t expecting that.”

The mercenary looked to Claude, “So have I surprised you again, Claude von Riegan?”

The noble leaned his face a bit closer, “Oh? Are you keeping score perhaps?”

Byriel narrowed his gaze, “It doesn’t take a genius to count that I’ve pulled more over your head, Claude. Seems like I’m winning.”

The Golden Deer leader chuckled, “Maybe, but don’t think I don’t have something in the works that’ll get me to win this game we’re playing.”

“We’re only just starting,” Byriel smirked a little, “And I like to think I’m good at impressing people.”

Claude had that scheming face again, “You know, Byriel, I think the two of us are gonna get along nicely.”

Byriel blinked, shocked to hear Claude call him by his first name and not ‘Teach’.

“That’s another point for me.”

As he said it, the reception hall doors opened again and in flooded the Golden Deer house students. All of them were still eagerly chatting amongst themselves about their victory, and they quickly swarmed Claude and Byriel like a group of excited bees.

“Well met, Professor!” Lorenz was the first to congratulate Byriel, “The breadth of your skill was on full display today. I must admit that your tactics were masterful. I shudder to think what may have transpired had it been Claude leading us into battle.”

_ Me too. _

“I noticed that too!” Raphael was beaming, “We just did what you told us, and we won! I love it!”

“As expected from a child of the former captain of the knights,” Lysithea grinned from ear-to-ear, “Thank you for today, Professor. I have much to consider!”

“Hey, well, I didn’t take down Hubert or Dedue,” Byriel gave the barest hint of a smile.

Lysithea grinned, “When Raphael got Hubert, I thought I was going to die laughing.”

A collective rumble of laughter shifted through the classmates, and Leonie spoke up, “I liked it when you threw dirt into Edelgard’s face. Seems like you really haven’t changed, huh stringbean.”

Byriel narrowed his gaze at Leonie, “I did that because I got backed into a corner.”

“Hey, as long as you’re not throwing dirt into my face-”

“Geez, it was one time.”

Leonie scowled, “You did it because you knew I was going to win that duel!”

“Absolutely,” Byriel nodded, “And it worked.”

She rolled her eyes, “You are such a blockhead!”

“This blockhead still won the mock battle.”

Hilda giggled, “I never doubted that our professor would be amazing! It was _ way _ too obvious, don’t you agree, Marianne?”

Marianne shrank back, “Huh? Me? Oh, um, yes. Of course… well done, professor.”

Leonie smiled a bit, “Captain Jeralt taught you well. It would have been more of a surprise had our professor proved lacking.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit harsh to give Jeralt all of the credit, Leonie?” Ignatz asked.

Leonie scowled, “Captain Jeralt raised him! He should show a little gratitude.”

Byriel crossed his arms, “Look, dad taught me the basics. I came up with the strategy on my own. I can win battles without him, thanks.”

It was harsh, but Byriel couldn’t help but get annoyed whenever Leonie, or anyone for that matter, did that. Not that Byriel hated Jeralt, far from it, but they didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on a lot of things. If anything, Byleth was closer to their father. She was the one to go fishing with Jeralt, and the one who took up sword fighting for him. Byriel liked magic more, he liked reading and his skills were better suited to planning and using his mind over his muscles.

Needless to say, sometimes Jeralt and Byriel clashed heads, and it wasn’t a pretty sight whenever it did happen.

“In any case,” Ignatz picked up quickly, “It’s clear that we only won because of our mentor’s guidance.”

Claude had that look again, “A mercenary’s wisdom and techniques are forged in battle. Those are the sorts of things you can only learn through experience, right Teach?”

Byriel shrugged.

“But more importantly, it’s time to celebrate our victory!” Claude suddenly stepped towards the mercenary and threw an arm around his shoulders, making Byriel want to shrink and die for a moment, “Teach here has yet to try my well renowned home cooking!”

Everyone let out a cheer, all of them walking towards the dining hall eagerly. Claude still kept his arm around Byriel until they got to the kitchen. Byriel didn’t like being touched by random strangers. However, with this scoundrel, he didn’t mind it as much as usual. Claude was also close enough for Byriel to realize that he smelled faintly of pine needles and some kind of citrus.

The worst part was that Byriel liked the scent.

“I really do hope you’ll join us,” Claude pulled away and gave him that scheming look again as he walked off, “After all, I swiped some finely aged cheese from the dining hall just for this occasion.”

Byriel felt his skin prick with that same feeling of wanting to run away and punch the noble, but it was less of a desire to punch the noble and more just wanting to hide forever. Before he could do as such, there came a voice from the dining hall entrance.

Seteth was standing at the entrance, looking as stern as ever, “Professor, the archbishop requires yours and your sister’s presence.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ The summon from the archbishop was sudden, not even giving her enough time to reunite with the rest of her students before Seteth came by. _

In a way, she was actually glad that she was summoned. To prolong facing her class and their defeat a little longer. Yes, she was glad her brother won, but it was still disappointing to lose after all the talk of never losing to anyone.

Byleth stood outside the audience chamber, shuffling her feet a little bit, while Seteth waited sternly for Byriel. The advisor had called for her brother to go with him, but Byriel was still being held hostage by his students so it was likely going to take a moment before he could make his daring escape. Hopefully, with less dirt.

She wasn’t even the one who had dirt thrown in her face this time, and yet her eyes still stung all the same.

Seteth glanced over at her, “Where could your brother have run off to?”

“He’s probably trying to escape his students. Won’t be too long, I think… ” Byleth muttered, feeling a bit awkward talking to the advisor alone.

The advisor looked frustrated, clearly he had other things to attend to. Byleth actually wondered just how much this man was in charge of at this monastery.

There was a long moment of more uncomfortable silence before the advisor cleared his throat and looked back at her, “Your brother’s strategies today, they were…” he struggled for words briefly.

“Good?”

“I daresay effective is a better word.”

Byleth nodded, “He’s always had a knack for effective plans. He’s a lot better at that than I could ever be.”

Seteth sighed, “I must say I was not expecting him to throw dirt into Edelgard’s face.”

“I was.”

He raised an eyebrow in concern.

Byleth looked down at her feet, pouting slightly, “I’ve gotten dirt in my eyes many times.”

“It is a childish tactic.”

“That’s why it works. No one expects an adult to throw dirt in your eyes like a kid in the sandbox,” Byleth grumbled, “Maybe if I did that, and if I wasn’t so careless, we could’ve won.”

“Do not blame yourself,” Seteth shook his head, “Your brother played his cards right and he won. That doesn’t mean you did poorly.”

She frowned a bit, looking at the floor, “Still… they were counting on me, and I let them down. How am I supposed to face them as their professor now?”

“With confidence you will win next time. Failure is the best teacher, afterall.”

She still felt doubtful, but it felt nice to talk to someone that wasn’t her brother about this. Surprisingly, Seteth actually seemed like a rather wise person to talk to.

“I’m here,” Byriel’s voice called from the stairs, and after a few seconds he appeared. He almost looked happy, but it could be hard to tell sometimes.

“There you are,” Seteth gave him a stern look, “Lady Rhea is waiting for you both.”

Byleth felt her stomach flip a little, as being around the archbishop still made her feel uneasy. As the three entered the room, she could immediately feel Rhea’s eyes looking through her.

“Your work with the students was remarkable,” Rhea folded her hands together neatly as the twins stood before her, “I can see Jeralt trained you both well. I do hope you were able to use the occasion to bond with the students.”

The twins mustered up a nod each, 

“We were,” Byleth spoke up, wondering if her brother’s vocal chords were also feeling a bit too tight in that moment.

Rhea smiled cooly, “I am so happy to hear it. Nothing would please me more than if you both used this coming year to grow closer still.”

The advisor spoke up next, “Of course, the mock battle was mere practice. The real fight is the Battle of the Eagle and Lion, which will take place during the Wyvern Moon.”

As Seteth said that sentence, he made sure to look Byleth directly in the eyes. A subtle encouragement that the Blue Lion house still had a chance to prove themselves.The Wyvern Moon, that was six moons away. Maybe that was all the time they needed?

“You are expected to properly train your students so as not to humiliate the academy during the long-held tradition that is the coming battle.”

Byleth gave a nod, determined, “We won’t disappoint next time.”

“We’ll just beat you a second time,” Byriel muttered quietly, just for his sister to hear.

Rhea’s smile widened for a moment, seemingly reacting to the look Byleth gave her obnoxious twin.

“As for today,” She continued, “I have called you both here to tell you of your mission for the month ahead.”

“Mission?” Byriel looked to the archbishop.

“Your classes are to dispose of some bandits causing trouble nearby.”

The twins looked at each other, a bit confused. Then Byleth looked back to Rhea, “Are you… asking us to do a mercenary job?”

Seteth crossed his arms, “Those affiliated with Garreg Mach Monastery have a moral obligation to help those in need, regardless of social standing. Students are no exception. You may think of it as a mercenary job, but it is not exclusive to you both. Each month, before the newly birthed moon departs, each house of students must complete their assigned mission,” The advisor looked at each twin, his expression no less stern but it had a slight hint of encouragement in it, “You shall work to complete the task at hand alongside your students and report back to the archbishop before the deadline. Understood?”

“Yes.” Byleth nodded.

“Crystal clear.” Byriel agreed.

The advisor lowered his arms, “I will soon provide you with the necessary details for your first mission.”

“Why not tell us now?” Byleth asked.

“If I told you now, I expect you would only forget, and I despise repeating myself.”

The twins looked at each other, then they both shrugged. He wasn’t wrong.

Rhea’s gaze met Byleth suddenly, causing her to freeze for a moment, “I can sense something special within your heart… I have high hopes for you. That is all.”

Byriel looked over at his twin questioningly, but she had no response as the advisor and archbishop exited off to the side room and shut the door.

“What was that all about?” Byriel questioned.

“I don’t know…” Byleth visibly shuddered.

“Bandits, they say…”

Both twins immediately recoiled, looking around the room in confusion as to the sudden voice before remembering back at Remire Village, that same voice came to them.

“Was that…?” Byleth looked to her brother.

“That girl who rewound time.” He looked up to the ceiling, as if expecting to see her.

“Do you recall when we first met?” That voice asked, “You shall not fall so shamelessly again, correct Byleth and Byriel?”

The twins were at a loss for words at this impossibility. The girl sighed in annoyance, “Have you no words for me? Do not tell me that you are shocked to hear from me! You ought to know that I am always with you two now. To hear my voice should not come as a shock.”

Byleth looked to her brother, questioningly. He only shrugged as a response, which was roughly the best she was likely to get in this situation.

“What now?” She asked.

Her brother stretched out his arms, and started walking towards the doors to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m hungry, Claude was going to make food. You can come if you want.”

Byleth crossed her arms, “Th-That’s okay… I should see my class.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…”

The two were quiet for a moment, then Byriel narrowed his eyes in concern, “You know that today’s fight wasn’t personal, right?”

“I know that,” Byleth tried a ghost of a grin, “I just remembered that you’re my ultimate enemy.”

“What a coincidence, you’re also my worst enemy,” Byriel made a face, “So let’s agree to never fight for real, okay?”

“Never,” Byleth nodded, “I don’t think I could bring myself to do it anyway.”

Her brother nodded, and waited for her to walk close behind as they left the audience chamber and began to walk down the stairs towards the reception hall again. As they got closer and closer, Byleth felt her stomach churn more at the thought of facing the Blue Lions again.

Before she could mentally prepare herself, she heard a familiar voice called to Byriel, “Oh, professor! Have you seen your sister?”

It was Dimitri, who was the last person Byleth wanted to face now after all that talk.

Before she could run back up the stairs, or better yet bury herself in a hole, Byriel gave his sister an encouraging shove forward, “Here she is.”

“Traitor,” Byleth glared at her brother as he smirked a bit and walked in the direction of the dining hall.

“Professor! I’ve been looking for you.” Dimitri stood tall as ever, that same smile on his face as Byleth tried her best to stand taller.

“You were looking for me?”

“I was hoping we could all share a meal together,” He explained, “It could serve as a post-battle analysis. What do you think?”

She blinked, “I’m invited?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t you be?”

“You’re… not upset that we lost?” Byleth felt ashamed that she let her students down so quickly.

“What? Of course not,” The prince shook his head, “Professor, your tactics were still extraordinary, and plenty of your decisions were well made even though we didn’t win. I was still impressed with your careful regard for which students to bring to the battle and your tactics! I realized how much I have to learn!”

“I…” She was shocked, “But everyone else…?”

He grinned a little, “Everyone was eagerly talking about what they saw on the battlefield today. Especially how you were able to defeat Ferdinand!”

Byleth felt a bit less anxious hearing that, and even a little proud of that.

“If it’s any consolation, I should’ve been more aware of Claude and his nature,” the prince looked guilty, “It was foolish of me to underestimate him.”

“Right…” Byleth pressed her lips together in thought, “I wasn’t expecting Bernadetta to disarm Felix either.”

Dimitri chuckled a bit, “I wasn’t either. Neither was I expecting your brother to throw dirt into Edelgard’s face-” He paused mid sentence and went serious, “Ah- that’s not to say it was an honorable move… ”

“It’s not,” Byleth shook her head, “But it’s effective. Believe me, he’s done it to me.”

“Does he do that often?”

Byleth sighed, “Yes.”

The prince made a face, disapproving of her brother’s tactics, “Well, I will just have to be cautious if I ever fight against your brother at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion.”

“What?”

He looked determined, “Today’s battle was merely practice, and as you said before; we have a better understanding of our weaknesses. Come the Wyvern Moon, I am confident that we will have a chance to try again and win.”

She almost smiled, “You really think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

And with that, the last bit of nerves evaporated like mist in the morning sun. She nodded, just as determined, “We will.”

There was a beat of silence, and then the prince looked concerned, “Professor, I’m sorry to intrude, but… you look troubled.”

“Is that so…?” She shook her head, “No, that isn’t the case. I’m feeling much better after talking to you.”

“You say that, but your eyes tell a different story.”

“Ah…” She tilted her head a bit, “Apologies, I’m not the most expressive person…”

A silence fell over the two, and then the prince straightened a bit, “I know we only just met, so this may be difficult for you, but…”

Byleth raised her eyebrows in question.

He smiled a bit more, “I’d love nothing more than to share our happiness with you. Joy can be so fleeting, after all. We’re all in this together… so I hope you will consent.”

“Happiness…?”

“All of us, not just myself, are overjoyed that you are to be our instructor. Even if we didn’t win today, we plan on winning the next one and are glad that you are the one to lead us,” He spoke sincerely, in a way that made Byleth lose her voice, “So, if you may, will you join the rest of us for a post-battle analysis?”

Funny how just a few moments ago she thought that she didn’t belong as a professor here, only for those thoughts to be turned around by this prince. There was something welcoming about the prince and how he talked, one that felt different than talking to her brother. It made her throat feel tight, and her hands felt weak. Odd… she had never felt like this before about anyone.

Byleth gave the ghost of a smile, “I’d be more than happy to join all of you.”

The prince smiled widely, “I’m glad to hear it,” he turned to the dining hall, waiting for Byleth to follow behind, “Shall we then?”

She walked in step next to him, entering the dining hall and joining the rest of the Blue Lion class. And, much to her relief, Dimitri wasn’t lying; they all greeted her warmly, discussing what to do better next time and what they thought worked really well.

It felt nice, being around these students and talking to them. Byleth had never felt so content with losing a battle before, but talking to these students made her feel even more determined to improve for the next fight.

She was also determined now, more than ever, to get to know each of these students and protect them no matter what.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Edelgard

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♚ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Edelgard liked to think that she couldn’t be surprised easily. She was never wrong when it came to noticing bad people, she was not easily snuck up on, and had worked for years to perfect that sense. _ If a madman walked into the reception hall, she would already be drawing her axe and could predict the actions of most people.

And yet, when it came to these twin professors, they somehow kept surprising her. The defeat of the Black Eagle house stung about as much as her eyes did from the dirt that remained in her lashes, more so because Professor Byriel was able to pull such a sneaky and ruthless trick over her and her entire class. Even worse, he wanted to be Professor Hanneman and Manuela’s assistant teacher. It was an insult, to be taught by the boy who humiliated her.

But as much as she wanted to be angry, Edelgard couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy that Byriel Eisner hadn’t pushed her aside completely. She was happy, and she hated it.

“Lady Edelgard.”

The princess blinked back to reality, only to immediately regret doing so as her eyes began to punish her for blinking. She squinted a bit, turning in her seat at the reception hall to look at her loyal valet, Hubert.

“Yes, Hubert?”

Her valet gave her a concerned look, lined with anger, “Are your eyes still irritated, Lady Edelgard?”

“Just a little,”

That only made him look more upset, “That scoundrel, how dare he pull such a cowardly move. I will retrieve medicine from Manuela.”

“It’s fine, Hubert,” Edelgard reassured him before he could storm off, “It’s nothing a little water and time can’t fix.”

The valet glowered, still looking displeased with the results of what had happened to her in the fight. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was close to putting an end to the new professor.

“I am Adrestia’s future Emperor,” Edelgard raised her chin a bit, “A little dirt isn’t enough to stop me in my tracks.”

“I have no doubts about that, Lady Edelgard,” Hubert nodded, “Still, I am rather suspicious of this new professor. To pull such a vindictive and rather perilous strategy, on his own sister no less…”

Edelgard narrowed her brows in thought; the Black Eagles had originally planned on a double encapture strategy as a means of defeating both houses swiftly. It was a safer bet, and would’ve easily taken down Golden Deer in their position. For Byriel Eisner to pull the move he played, he would’ve been gambling with the Black Eagles and Blue Lions both falling for his facade. If they hadn’t taken him lightly, he could’ve risked leading two enemies right into Golden Deer’s location.

“It was a wager, but one he seemed confident in taking,” Edelgard admitted, “He was counting on both houses taking Golden Deer for granted, and if we had taken them seriously it wouldn’t have worked.”

Hubert frowned, “Lady Edelgard… is letting a person that audacious into the Black Eagle house wise?”

She remembered what Byriel had stated at the end of the battle, how he planned on becoming the Black Eagle’s teaching assistant. As angry as she was at Byriel for the stunt he pulled that day, she felt a pang of excitement knowing that at least one of these twins didn’t push the Black Eagles aside.

Edelgard narrowed her brows, “Do you have doubts in his abilities?”

“I merely wonder how meddlesome he will be.”

She crossed her arms in thought, feeling a weight bear down on her shoulders. Edelgard had a path to walk, a path thin and sharp like the edge of a knife and stained a brilliant crimson. One false step could lead to everything she had worked to build for so long could collapse in on her, something she could not risk now. Not when she was getting closer. But the question now was whether these twin professors could be the ones to send the axe down onto her enemy’s necks, or her own.

“It’s too early to assume such things,” Edelgard concluded, straightening her posture and looking to her trusted valet, “For now, I will observe their actions. And having Byriel Eisner closer to the Black Eagles will allow me to better judge what sort of individual he is.”

“Very well, Lady Edelgard,” Hubert gave a proper bow to her.

The future emperor stood from the table, and looked to the doors to the dining hall suspiciously, “Now then, we have work to do.”

Her valet’s expression went grim for a moment, but then he nodded, “Yes, Lady Edelgard.”

The two began to walk away, but they were unable to get too far before, unfortunately, Byriel Eisner rounded a corner and spotted the two.

“Professor,” Edelgard acknowledged briefly, hoping that he wouldn’t stop them.

“Where are you going?” He asked, “You’re not joining your class in the dining hall?”

“I have other matters to attend to,” Edelgard dismissed.

However, the professor didn’t seem like he was going to let the issue at hand go easily. He frowned a bit, “Are you angry with me for throwing dirt at you?”

Edelgard shook her head, “No, not as much as I was this morning,” she still narrowed her eyes at him in a glare, “But still, to pull such a childish tactic-!”

The professor shrugged, “You backed me into a corner, I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t desperate. Or if you were Byleth.”

Edelgard forced herself not to laugh at how seriously he stated it, or how Hubert stared at him as if judging the best way to kill him.

“Either way,” Byriel continued, “In a real battle, there’s no room for honor usually. You use what you can to stay alive.”

Hubert gave a look to Byriel.

“You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t do the same thing if it were you.” He defended.

Edelgard made a face, “Well, I’ll just remember that at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Next time, you’ll be the one getting dirt in your eyes.”

Byriel smirked a little, “Don’t get too confident, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve that you haven’t seen. But I’ll teach you a few.”

“You were being serious about being the Black Eagle’s teacher assistant… ” Edelgard was still baffled at the professor’s declarations.

“I was.”

“Why then? You chose to be Golden Deer’s teacher, so I would assume you had no interest in the Black Eagle house at all.”

The professor’s smirk fell, “I thought Golden Deer house was better suited to by teaching methods, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t like the Black Eagles.”

“I can understand that, but why would you put this much extra work on yourself?” Edelgard questioned, her suspicion growing more, “Why are you going through all this for a class you didn’t even choose?”

Byriel’s expression softened, “Because I don’t want to leave anyone behind.”

The princess was confused at the response, “Wh-What?”

His eyes fell to the floor, “It wouldn’t sit right with me if I didn’t do anything for you or your class. I don’t want to leave _ anyone _behind, and if I have to take on some extra work, then that’s fine with me.”

Edelgard hadn’t expected the sincerity from the former mercenary, and felt as if she should respond in some way. However, she had no idea what to say, or what she could say.

Byriel Eisner raised his chin a bit, “Even if the archbishop doesn’t agree to my request, I’ll just have to find a different way to be your teacher.”

The princess cracked a little bit of a smile, “My dear teacher, you are one of the most puzzling individuals I’ve ever met.”

“I get that sometimes,” Byriel smirked a little again, “If I wasn’t, I’d probably be dead.”

Edelgard sighed a bit, and shook her head. Such an infuriating, and yet intriguing, individual this mercenary was.

“Lady Edelgard, forgive my interruption,” Hubert spoke up, having let the two talk for a bit, “But we have other duties to attend to.”

The princess felt her heart sink, suddenly being reminded of reality and her tasks at hand. For a moment, she felt that she could allow herself to forget about the road she had ahead and just talk to this somewhat eccentric, but well-intentioned, young man.

“You won’t join the rest of us?” Byriel asked, looking disappointed to see her go.

Edelgard shook her head, breaking away from the illusion of normalcy, “No, unfortunately. As Adrestia’s future emperor, I have much I need to do before I ascend to the throne. Even though that won’t be for a while, I cannot afford to let myself rest for too long.”

Byriel squinted at her, “Well, I can’t stop you. But don’t work yourself too hard, Edelgard. You still have a year to just enjoy your time at the academy.”

“I appreciate your concern, my dear teacher,” Edelgard began to turn to leave, “But for now, you should enjoy your victory with the Golden Deer.”

She felt a little sad at the look of disappointment on Byriel’s face, but he didn’t try to convince her to stay. Perhaps if things were different, she would’ve accepted the invitation. But with the way the world was now, and the path that lay before her, she couldn’t afford any distractions.

The moment the princess and valet were away from prying eyes, Hubert turned to the princess, “Shall we?”

She nodded, setting her expression stern, “Yes.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

_ The air in the canyon grew bitterly cold this late in the evening, and being so deep in the valley, the winds sounded more like the whispers of the dead. They pulled at her heavy robes and armor gently, just enough to send a soft chill down her spine. _

Edelgard had to distance herself from those thoughts though. As the emperor, she had to have a heart of iron and mask away her sympathies. She couldn’t afford to let it stray away from what needed to be done, even if it meant to do actions that were cold-blooded.

“What is this nonsense?! All I was told was to kill as many noble pipsqueaks as possible!” Kostas screamed at her, but she stood tall behind the expressionless mask she wore, “No one said anything about the Knights of damned Seiros being on our trail!”

“You have proven yourself worthless, distracted by something so trivial.” Edelgard’s voice came out scrambled from behind the mask, “I had hoped you would achieve your goal despite the setback. But now the children of the knights’ former captain is in play. How interesting…”

“Hey, this isn’t what I agreed to!” Kostas cried, practically spitting his words at her.

Being behind the mask of the Flame Emperor she had created, Edelgard was able to find a voice to her thoughts, “Hiring mercenaries as professors… what was that woman thinking?” That was the biggest question she had; just what was the archbishop hoping to achieve by accepting the twin mercenaries as professors? Did she view them as a threat to keep close, or did she view them as potential allies? If that were the case, then they were a danger to be eliminated like Dimitri and Claude.

Though, as she thought that she remembered how sincere Byriel Eisner had been before, and she suddenly felt ashamed that she would label him as a traitor to be disposed of. Perhaps he could be convinced to join her side… or at least spared.

“Are you listening to me?!” Kostas shouted, pulling Edelgard out of her thoughts, “How do we finish this?!”

Edelgard’s heart became cold once more, “You die.”

Kostas stepped back from her, taken aback by the icy threat, “Wh-What?!”

She shook her head, dismissing him swiftly, “Underestimating the knights was an amateur mistake. One you will pay for. The road to eternal torment awaits you all. Now I must locate your replacements.”

Now that it was set, it was time to go. Even though she was expecting the warp spell, it still surprised her every time. A flash of violet light enveloped Edelgard and her body suddenly felt cold along with a sensation similar to stepping out into the rain. 

“Wait! Get back here! Damn you!”

Those were the last words she heard before the scenery changed in a blinding light, bringing Edelgard back to the entrance to the canyon. But before her loyal valet could appear and they could begin the journey back to the monastery, there came a voice that she knew well. One lacking in emotion and cold from behind her.

“Seems as though you’ve lost your only associates, Flame Emperor.”

Edelgard froze, grateful that the mask she wore concealed her face so well, “Spying on me again, Thales?”

From the shadows, appearing like a phantom, was a man. His skin was stark white, as well as his hair, his pale features made all the more prominent with his dark armor.

“Why wouldn’t I? You are our greatest creation. We used the defiled beast’s blood as the fuel to your flame, that you may burn even the gods. With that power, we may cleanse Fódlan and bring forth our salvation.”

Edelgard glared at him through the mask’s eyes, wanting nothing more than to turn that power to burn this monster who dared to greet her as if they were allies, “There will be no salvation for you and your kind.”

Thales smirked, his pale eyes amused, “Our goals aline, Flame Emperor. I gifted you that mask and cloak all so that you may acquire the strength you need, all for a purpose you never would have achieved without us. You would still be that same terrified child without us, so why turn against us when we walk a similar path.”

She clenched her fist furiously, anger boiling in her veins, “I walk my own path.”

“Those professors stand in the way of your path.”

Edelgard flinched, “Word travels quickly, it seems.”

“Our eyes are never too far from you.”

She wasn’t surprised, but it still sent a disgusted chill down her back.

“Regardless, I come here with a new offer.”

“I have no desire to be indebted to you any more than is necessary, Thales. I only required this armor, and I have no interest in anything else from you or your kind.” She said the words bitterly.

Thales shook his head, “Now, now, allow me to speak before you come to any reckless conclusions.”

“What could you possibly want from me now?”

The man walked closer, his eyes staring at the canyon walls, “Despite our differences, we both oppose the church and we wish for change. Why not walk in mutual understanding to achieve what we both want? You desire to spark a revolution through this country, so allow me and my associates to pave the way for that ember to grow into a burning fire.”

“I know your methods, and I am not interested.”

Thales looked to her, “Who else will take your side, Flame Emperor?”

Her heart sank.

“Look around you,” Thales chidded, almost scolding her as if he were her teacher, “Your armies are large, and you have the advantage in terms of strength and numbers. But what will happen when the Kingdom and the Alliance choose to fight back? Do you truly think that they will lay down their weapons and allow you to take their land? Are you foolish enough to believe that they won’t form an alliance to go against you?”

Edelgard snapped, “I have allies who will side with me, there are people who oppose the church-!”

“_ What _ allies, Flame Emperor?” Thales stared at her, sending a sick pang through her stomach. He smirked, “Your only armies are bandits that, in your own words, make amateur mistakes. What allies will be brave enough and strong enough to go against the very thing that influences the rest of the world? Claude von Riegan? Dimitri? Will those two give up everything to side with you? Understand, you stand alone in this world ruled by the monsters that wear the face of the archbishop, and without us you are nothing more than a terrified child.”

She wanted to scream, to withdraw her weapon and cut this monster down to pieces. The echoes of her old life came back in bitter memories; the pain, the screams, the smell of blood and bile and the image of her father looking so helpless. Her brothers and sisters clinging to her for dear life, begging for salvation at the hands of this monster.

That terrified child Thales thought he saw was dead. She died many years ago, and Edelgard was what was left. She swore to herself, all those years ago, that she would never bow to the will of this monster. A monster who dared to pretend they were allies while he did nothing but smirk as she cried in pain. He was no friend, he was a beast that she swore to kill and would make him beg for the salvation he never gave to the people he sacrificed.

So that’s why she hated herself for asking him for aid before. She hated that she had asked him for this disguise to distance herself, and stood next to him again with nothing once again. Because he was right, she had no allies in this cruel world. She had Hubert, but he couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to. Not without the risk of being killed.

Edelgard stood alone in this solemn journey. She had no allies or friends who would walk this path with her. Not Claude, not Dimitri, no one.

Byriel… he believed in her potential. Surely, he was making a mistake. There was no salvation for her.

She unclenched her shaking fists, her fingers feeling cold and numb, and her conscious begging for her to just walk away, “What do you propose?”

Thales’s smirk grew, “I propose an alliance of convenience with us. I will provide you the forces you desire, as many as you need, and in turn, you continue your march towards salvation.”

“Surely you desire something more.”

He shook his head, “I already have everything I need from you. Think of this as another gift to make you stronger. However, the year is only beginning.”

She scoffed, the sound coming out as garbled from the mask, as Thales turned to the shadows.

“We’ll meet again soon, Edelgard.”

And he was gone, just as suddenly as he had appeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: Wooooohoo! We got another chapter down right before finals hit! So excited to keep writing more Edelgard and Thales, and flesh out our slithery boys!
> 
> EldritchGremlin: Oh, also, we have a discord now for anyone interested. Join if you want and we'll hopefully see you next week!
> 
> Discord:  
https://discord.gg/Xu5ACKA


	13. Chapter 12: Learning the Ropes

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twelve⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Learning the Ropes ⋅ ✦

* * *

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

5/1

Harpstring Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦  ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ With the coming of classes being just a little ways away, the Eisner twins found themselves consulting more and more about their lesson plans with as much enthusiasm as if they were planning for another battle. _

“I had no idea there were so many rules for casting magic…” Byleth spoke up to her brother, eyes wide with surprise.

The two sat in the monastery’s library; a grand and tall room that smelled like old paper and seemed to have every book in the world lined like soldiers on the dark oak shelves. Byriel had discovered this place a little bit before and had wasted no time in spending most of his free time there reading everything he could get his hands on, and now he and his twin sat at one of the tables, their papers, and lessons scattered all over the surface.

Well, Byleth sat at the table. Byriel found he disliked sitting in a chair for too long, so he sat on the floor with his papers and notes scattered around him in a specific order that made sense to him.

“Magic isn’t complicated,” Byriel replied, briefly looking up at his sister from his book on the history of Fódlan, “It’s like a muscle; you train it to be stronger, but you have limits. If you understand the limits of yourself and your students, you won’t risk a rebound.”

Byleth frowned, “Rebounds… like that time you burned your hands really badly?”

He nodded, cringing at the memory, “Rebounds suck. It’s why you don’t tackle bigger spells until you’re stronger, and it happens if you only go halfway with casting a spell.”

His twin looked slightly pale as she heard those words, “Annette and Mercedes…”

“That won’t happen to them if you’re careful,” He reassured, “Plus I think Annette came from a sorcery academy, so she would know those rules better than anyone.”

“I still worry,” Byleth picked up a white feather pen and wrote something down, “I want to make sure I’m teaching them what they need.”

Byriel squinted through his glasses at his notes; he had made a list of his students and the strengths and weaknesses he had observed not just from the mock battle, but from what he had learned from talking to them. Then looking at the certifications that his students, along with himself, they could take he was attempting to make a reasonable plan for each one of them. His twin was doing the same, but she had been a little more indecisive.

“Why are there so many options?” She slightly whined the question, making Byriel laugh a bit.

“Look, you don’t need to decide on what to teach them right at this moment,” He advised, “Take some time to get to know who they are and then decide.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line as she thought over the words. Then she nodded, “You’re right…”

“By, I’m  _ always _ right.”

She gave him a look, “What about the flaming sword plan?”

He frowned, “Look, if dad just let me use that oil, it would’ve worked.”

“Or killed you.”

Byriel shrugged, causing his worrisome twin to sigh. He went back to making a few notes, but this time Byleth looked over his shoulder and watched him.

“Aren’t these names over here for the Black Eagle house?” She asked, pointing to the papers on Byriel’s right that had more names and lesson notes on them.

“Yup.”

“That’s a lot to go over though…” She commented.

Byriel waved his hand dismissively, “I can handle it.”

His twin squinted at him, “By, don’t push yourself.”

“I meant what I said at the mock battle, By,” He looked up at his sister, determined to not change his mind, “I don’t want to leave the Black Eagle house out, and I’m fine with taking some extra work to help them.”

“That’s still sixteen people to keep track of.”

Byriel set his jaw, “I can just stay up late-”

Byleth sat next to him, careful not to step on his papers, “I want to help you.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not fair that you’re the only one who gets to do something for Edelgard’s class,” She sounded sorrowful as she said it, “I felt just as guilty for leaving them behind, so I want to do something for their class too.”

“By, you don’t have to-”

She scowled, glaring at him up from under her own eyewear, “I  _ want _ to help you and Edelgard. Come on, By, let me do something.”

Byriel gave her a look, regretting that he hadn’t asked her about those feelings before. He didn’t even consider that she also wanted to do something for the future emperor.

He sighed, “Alright, we can split the work in half. It makes my life easier, I guess. Plus, I suck at melee combat, so you’re better suited to teach it.”

Byleth pressed her index finger into her brother’s cheek, pushing his head to tilt a little bit, “You don’t suck at melee combat, By. You’re just better at using magic.”

Byriel smirked a bit, and immediately planted his hand over the top of her head and messed with her already ruffled hair, “And you’re better at kicking people’s asses with swords, By.”

She almost smiled, pushing his hand away, “Hey, knock that off.”

“Not until you admit I’m the alpha twin.”

“I would, but that would be a lie.”

Before he could throw in a retort about his sister’s height, she gestured to the few books opened and circling the two. “What are you reading about, by the way?”

Byriel looked over at the open book closest to him, “Oh, I’m trying to learn more about the church.”

“The church?”

He picked up the book and held it for both of them to see, “Dad didn’t really teach us much about the church’s teachings, so I thought we might as well learn more about it.”

“What did you learn?”

He frowned, “That a bunch of people with long-ass names did stuff a long time ago.”

She laughed a bit, pulling the book closer to look at it more closely, “I guess that means you’re going to be a terrible history teacher.”

The two looked over the pages, Byriel running his finger under each sentence and Byleth reading the words quietly out loud. Something they used to do as children when learning how to read and write and helped them both remember things better.

Byriel hadn’t been lying about his previous statement; the church had a very long history that survived countless conflicts and wars over the centuries. All of it stemming from the self-proclaimed King of Liberation, Nemesis.

In the end, the church was a neutral power that tied everything together and had its separate branches spread all over Fódlan. The church spreads the teaching of peace and equilibrium and doesn’t get involved in other conflicts if it can avoid it. It was a neutral power, however, it had a lot of influence that it could use, but due to the teachings, they don’t.

The book was mostly comprised of religious texts, and the history was annoyingly simplistic. Byriel may not know a lot about history, but he wasn’t a fool; the world was complicated, therefore history was complicated. 

“To think that all this happened…” Byleth muttered.

“War gets messy,” Byriel replied, turning the page to a painted picture in the book, “All of this started because of Nemesis.”

Byleth pointed to a picture of Seiros surrounded by the Crests, “And Seiros saved all of Fódlan.”

He frowned, “Seiros only killed Nemesis, By. There are other heroes to pay attention to.”

“I know that,” She glanced over at him, “Still, it’s scary to think about; she managed to kill the King of Liberation.”

Byriel stared at the picture, feeling a bit uneasy as he looked over the serene portrait of Seiros. She seemed oddly familiar, but not in a comforting way. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was just something about Seiros that was unnerving to him.

“Professors,”

The two jolted to attention at the sound of their titles, looking up from the book to see an old man staring down at them. He had the same robes as the rest of the monks, but it had a few more ornate decorations that suggested he had a higher standing in the monastery.

“H-Hello…” Byleth shrank back, and Byriel’s throat suddenly felt tight at this stranger’s presence.

“I hear you are both lacking in knowledge of the Church of Seiros,” He smiled at them, “The library contains countless documents about the teachings and the history of the church. I encourage you to keep making good use of them.”

Byriel was cringing on the inside, not knowing why he distrusted this librarian. However, there was something about him that gave the professor the sensation of dozens of spiders crawling all over his body.

“Thank you uh…” Byriel muttered the words.

The librarian hobbled away, his cane striking at the floor sharply as he did, “You may call me Tomas. Let me know if I can assist you in anything, professors.”

Byriel watched him leave as if he were a rabid wolf walking back into the forest. The moment Tomas was out of sight, he looked to his sister, “Who the heck…?”

She shrugged.

Before the two could get back to their reading, there came a much more familiar, and a somewhat more welcoming voice from the doorway, “Professor Byriel.”

He looked up, seeing Seteth in the doorway looking at the two sitting on the floor amidst all the papers and books.

“Yes?” Byriel passed the history book to his sister, careful to mark the page with a piece of paper.

The advisor looked at their organized mess, then back at the two, “The archbishop requires your presence.”

Immediately, Byriel got up on his feet and skillfully navigated through his piles of paper. He briefly looked at his sister, “Don’t touch anything, I’ll be right back!”

She didn’t, “No way, I’m coming too!” Byleth lept to her feet and followed her brother over his organized chaos and to the advisor. Seteth all the while watching the two as they stepped up to him.

“We’ll clean this all up when we get back,” Byriel promised the advisor, gesturing to all their books and papers.

Seteth sighed a bit, “Come along then, both of you.”

The three left the room, Byriel almost running ahead of Seteth and Byleth to get to the audience chamber. He had to know if the archbishop approved of his request, or if he had to somehow convince her to change her mind if she said no.

“I assume that you know what this meeting is for, Byriel?” The advisor raised a brow at him.

He nodded, “My request for the Black Eagle house.”

Byleth made a face, “He’s not allowed to do it alone. If he does, he’ll probably work himself ragged, so I want to help the Black Eagle house.”

The advisor almost looked amused at Byleth’s concern, but only for a brief moment before they reached the audience chamber. Standing in front of it, Byriel felt his stomach drop and suddenly felt grateful that his sister had decided to be stubborn and go with him.

Seteth pulled the doors open, and both twins walked into the room. However, right before the advisor could follow them, Rhea’s voice came up.

“Seteth, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to talk to them both alone for a moment.” She stood at the opposite end of the audience chamber, her hands folded neatly over her chest in patience for the two to step closer.

The advisor hesitated, “Lady Rhea…”

Byriel clenched his fists,  _ please don’t leave us with her. _

“If you would, please bring the house leaders here as well so that we may overview this month’s mission.”

Sadly, he really couldn’t do anything but obey. Seteth gave a short bow, his expression stern, “As you wish.”

The doors shut behind them, leaving Byriel and Byleth to face the archbishop completely alone for the first time since they arrived at the monastery.

“Welcome, professors,” she smiled cooly at them, “There is no need to be nervous. Please, come closer.”

Byriel stood right next to his sister as they closed the distance between them and Rhea. He hated how he wanted to run away and hide now, but the archbishop’s eyes were seemingly so knowing. Like she held the answers to questions Byriel didn’t even know existed.

She spoke first, looking to Byleth, “I see that you did not hesitate to follow your brother here.”

“Is that a problem?” Byleth asked quietly.

Rhea shook her head, “Not at all. In fact, I am rather pleased to see both of you once again.”

Byleth stood stiffly, unsure what to say next. Then the archbishop looked to Byriel, her jade-colored eyes watching him curiously, “I have received word from professors Manuela and Hanneman that you wish to become a teaching assistant to the Black Eagle house, is that correct?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

The archbishop smiled gently, “I expected as much from a child of Jeralt. Such kindness and determination, I have no doubts that you both will be splendid guides for the Black Eagles.”

Byleth looked a bit surprised, “Both of us?”

“Why, yes,” Rhea’s smile widened ever so slightly, “I have no hesitations in placing the responsibility upon both of you. From everything I have heard, you two seem very close and will have no trouble sharing the work together. If that is what you both desire, that is.”

“Y-Yes,” Byleth straightened, “I want to help the Black Eagle house with Byriel.”

Byriel caved, “Yes, please, her assistance would be greatly appreciated.” The words tasted awkward on his tongue, but he wanted to sound polite and the slightest bit responsible.

Rhea laughed lightly, the sound almost pleasant to listen to, “Such sweet children. Oh, my apologies. I should not be treating you as children. As Jeralt’s kin, somehow you don’t seem at all strangers to me.”

An odd statement, Byriel noted. But he didn’t really want to dig up that issue when the assistant position was so close now.

The archbishop smiled again, “Regardless, I have no doubts you both will be excellent professors. Both to your chosen houses and to the Black Eagles.”

Byriel gave a bow, less awkward than the first time he had done it for the archbishop, “Thank you, archbishop.”

“Yes, thank you.” Byleth quickly did the same.

Rhea smiled that same gentle grin, “Of course. But there is no need for such formalities. As Jeralt’s kin, somehow you don’t seem at all strangers to me… ”

The suspicion Byriel held for the archbishop lessened, but not completely. He had no idea why but he felt that it was likely a bad idea to entirely lower his guard around the archbishop even though she presented herself as a seemingly kind and trustworthy person.

Maybe it was just his instincts as a mercenary, or maybe it was something else.

“Speaking of Jeralt,” Rhea continued, “May I ask if he ever spoke of me to either of you?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the twins as they glanced at each other. Byriel turned back to the archbishop, “He never mentioned you or the church.”

She frowned, “Oh dear, how heartless of him.”

“Sorry…” Byleth murmured, embarrassed.

The archbishop shook her head, “Do not apologize, my dear. In any case, let us endeavor to become closer from here on out. Since you two are here, shall I tell you about the Jeralt that I knew?”

Before Byriel could even conjure up a response, Byleth asked surprised, “You knew him?”

“I did,” Rhea’s smile only grew, “When I first met Jeralt, he was quite young. Why he could not even grow a full beard at that point!”

Byriel had to resist the urge to laugh at the image of a younger, beardless Jeralt. Especially when Jeralt had, in the past, poked slight fun at Byriel’s own smooth jaw.

“On one fateful occasion, the band of mercenaries he belonged to fought alongside the Knights of Seiros,” The archbishop continued thoughtfully, “I was traveling with the knights at the time, and Jeralt jumped in front of an attack meant for me. He was gravely wounded, on the verge of death.”

The two listened intently.

“I tended to his wounds in a desperate attempt to save his life. Thankfully, my efforts were not in vain. Jeralt managed to escape seemingly certain death.” Rhea smiled.

“He still seems to do that on a daily basis,” Byriel muttered.

“Let her finish.” Byleth lightly scolded him, causing him to go quiet.

“I made arrangements for him to receive further care at Garreg Mach. The moment he was deemed fully recovered, I invited him to join the knights.” Rhea concluded.

“He never told us any of this,” Byleth looked somber, “I didn’t know… thank you for telling us.”

The archbishop smiled again, “Well, it is not a story I have often repeated. Even at the monastery, there are not many who know that.”

“Why tell us then?” Byriel asked, curious.

“I tell you this because, to me, you are the children of the one who saved my life all those years ago. And also… ” she trailed off, seemingly hesitant to go further.

“What?” Byriel questioned.

She shook her head. “Nevermind. It is nothing, I simply wanted to say that I trust both of you,” Rhea gave them a smile that felt more real than the ones she had on before, “By coming to visit with me today, you have both… well, suffice it to say that my day is brighter than it otherwise would have been. I thank you both for that.”

Byriel believed her, and thought back again to that old story of old lives and tragedy. Though, he couldn’t read her expression as well. Still, listening to her talk about their father so fondly and the way she looked at them, she carried an unseen sadness. Probably more than one person could likely carry in a lifetime. Just what had those eyes seen, he wondered?

There came a knock at the audience chamber doors, “Lady Rhea, I have returned.” Seteth’s voice came through the heavy doors.

The archbishop straightened, raising her shields once again, “Ah, apologies. I did not realize how much time has passed. Enter, please.”

Byriel and Byleth turned as the doors opened, and in walked Seteth trailed by Claude, Dimitri, and Edelgard respectively. The three house leaders varied in expressions, from tired to determined, as they walked towards the side room Byriel had seen Seteth and the archbishop escape into before.

“I hope we may speak again soon, professors.” Lady Rhea said to the twins as they followed the advisor.

Byleth turned, and gave a nod to her, “Yes… thank you again, Lady Rhea.”

After a moment, Byriel did the same; “Right, thank you, archbishop.”

Her smile lasted all the way until the doors to the side room closed, and Byriel felt the woman’s gaze vanish into vapor.

“Hey, Teach,” Claude spoke up, drawing Byriel’s attention away, “What’s on your mind? You look so serious right now.”

“Just thinking…” Byriel shook his head and walked to Claude’s left side. Though he also made sure to stand on Edelgard’s right side as well. The princess looked at him questioningly as Byleth stood between her and Dimitri.

The prince looked to Byleth, intrigued, “You spoke with the archbishop?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t anything bad,” Byleth reassured.

Edelgard looked to Byriel, then to Byleth with suspicion.

Seteth crossed his arms, looking at the five, “As you have already been notified, your mission is to subdue some bandits. Our students have been learning about combat through study, but this is a precious opportunity to provide them with practical experience. The knights will support your mission and are prepared to offer their assistance if necessary.”

The twins were tense, as well as the other three house leaders.

The advisor’s tone went gravely serious, “In short, this is no mock battle. All of you must be prepared for anything. Professors, you will receive a message from the knights when it is time to depart. Until then, use your time wisely.”

With that final warning, Seteth departed back towards the audience chamber. Leaving the five alone to glance at one another.

“More bandits?” Claude squinted at Byriel, “Not very original, Teach.”

He squinted at the house leader, “Not interested?”

“Well, as long as you’re with us, at least things won’t be boring. In fact, it may take a turn for the interesting.”

Edelgard shot him a look, “Could you at least try to take this seriously?”

Dimitri smiled at Byleth, “This will be our first true battle. I’m looking forward to fighting alongside you, Professor.”

She pressed her lips together in thought, “I’m still concerned… most of the students have never seen combat.”

“During the mock battle, your commands were thoughtful and thorough, as was your strategy,” He looked set, “With you on our side, I’m confident we will prevail.”

Byleth clenched her fists, “Alright… I’ll make sure that we’re ready.”

The prince nodded, still smiling at Byriel’s sister, “I will as well. Let’s use this opportunity to prepare as best we can.”

Claude looked over at the prince, “Don’t worry, your highness, the Golden Deer house will be there to save your asses.”

Dimitri and Edelgard gave him a slightly annoyed look.

“This is no mock battle, Claude,” Edelgard lifted her chin defiantly, “The Black Eagle house will be fully capable of eliminating the threat at hand.”

“Right, right,” Claude waved off the statement, “I’ll remember that when I have to save you with an arrow.”

“Claude, the wind conditions of the Red Canyon might interfere with your aim,” Dimitri interjected.

“Please, my aim is spot on. Tell that to the bandit that would’ve otherwise killed you that night.”

Dimitri narrowed his gaze, “Speaking of which, I hope you don’t plan on pulling another ‘ingenious plan’.”

“My plan  _ was _ ingenious,” Claude defended, “It led us to meet the professors here!”

Edelgard glared at him, “Because you ran away.”

“A truly wise strategist knows when the time is right to retreat,” Claude laughed, “As we clearly demonstrated at the mock battle.”

Byriel forced himself not to laugh at the look of frustration on both Dimitri and Edelgard’s faces.

Edelgard straightened her posture, looking at Byriel, “The last time we fought bandits, you saved me. Maybe I can return the favor this time. The knights are well aware of our enemy’s strength. We can count on them to keep the battlefield under control for us. It seems unlikely that we would lose. Still, let’s do all we can to prepare.”

“Right, and with that,” Claude headed for the door, “I take my leave to make my final preparations. I’ll see you around, teach?”

Byriel frowned, “I’m your professor.”

“Well, hopefully, I can still see you around outside of class, teach.” Claude gave him that scheming face again as he disappeared from behind the door.

The mercenary squinted after him as the prince smiled again at Byleth, “I will be at the knight’s hall. We will talk again soon, professor.”

Byleth shuffled her feet, “Right, I will see you in class.”

His smile widened and the prince took his leave. Byriel looked to his twin with a curious look, but she had no response. Which was odd for her.

Edelgard, being the only one left, looked to Byriel with that same suspicious look. He, in turn, gave her a ghost of a sly grin.

“Well, Edelgard, I kept my word. I am one of your class’s teaching assistants.”

“One of?!” Her head snapped over to Byleth.

She nodded, “Both of us are the Black Eagle’s teaching assistants.”

The princess was speechless, her violet eyes wide with disbelief, “Both of you?”

“Do you think this blockhead could handle two classes on his own?” Byleth squinted at her brother, “He can’t even get up before the sun rises.”

Byriel shot a look right back at his sister, “And you’d probably forget to put your shoes on if I wasn’t there to remind you.”

He at least expected the princess to smirk a bit at the response, but she still stared at them as if the twins had suddenly turned invisible.

“Edelgard?” Byriel grew concerned.

She shook her head, “I-I, forgive me, I never expected both of you to take an interest in the Black Eagle house and go through so much for them.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Byleth asked.

She was quiet, pondering something.

Byriel crossed his arms, “I meant what I said, Edelgard. I don’t plan on leaving anyone behind.” 

The princess, seemingly standing a little straighter now, gave the two a smile, “Very well. I have high expectations for both of you. So do not disappoint us.”

“Never.” Byleth nodded.

“Same for the Black Eagles,” Byriel smirked a little, “I have high expectations for each of you.”

Edelgard looked confident, even a little arrogant, “The Black Eagles never disappoint.”

_ Adorable. _ Byriel thought with that same slight smirk. But he didn’t dare say that out loud or risk getting a smackdown from his student.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Felix

╚═════════ ∘◦  **⚔** ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Ever since the mock battle, Felix had been spending the majority of his waking time at the training grounds. _ He had likely gone through almost half of the ground’s training swords, most of them breaking from the amount of abuse dealt with them against the training dummies, but that was of little concern to him.

He wanted to be above the loss of the mock battle, but he was still bitter at the fact he let himself be disarmed, to begin with. Not at Bernadetta herself, he couldn’t bring himself to hold a grudge against a girl scared of her own shadow, but more that he never expected such a move and had been trying to recreate it. A move like that could be beneficial, especially against the infuriatingly strong professor.

Felix swung again and again at the target standing in front of him, dull thuds bouncing off the walls at every strike until one hit to the center sent the dummy to the floor. The swordsman frowned, not feeling satisfied with the hollow victory and wanting an actual opponent to go against rather than one made of wood.

“Geez, you’re  _ still _ here?”

An annoying chipper voice came from right behind Felix, so close and loud that he almost jumped out of his skin and sent his sword swinging right into Sylvain’s head. The noble cried out, backing up before the training sword could shatter his nose.

Instead of being angry, Sylvain laughed, “Agile as ever, I see!”

Felix glared, “What do you want?”

“I was looking for you, Fe,” Sylvain shrugged, “I mean, we haven’t seen each other in a long time.”

“Don’t call me Fe.”

The noble frowned, “Aw, but I always call you Fe.”

“I haven’t even seen your stupid face in the last two years, let alone heard you call me that. It’s annoying,” Felix tightened his grip on his sword, “You’re interrupting my training, Sylvain, and unless you want to take the dummy’s place, leave me alone.”

“Hey, come on,” Sylvain still smiled, “We haven’t talked in years, so why don’t we go catch up for old time’s sake?”

Felix glowered at him, “I’m busy.”

“Doing what? More training? You’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

“I don’t skip training.”

Sylvain frowned, thought for a moment, then gave that same, stupid grin, “Okay, how about a break for something to eat? You can pick whatever you want.”

Felix sighed, frustrated knowing that there was no getting rid of the stubborn ginger without actually hitting him with his training sword. Not that he’d actually do that, no matter how annoying Sylvain was, but there were times where he was tempted.

“Ten minutes,” Felix stated, placing the training sword back with the others.

“Yes!” Sylvain cheered, far too jovial for just ten minutes.

Begrudgingly, Felix followed Sylvain out of the training grounds. They walked the distance to the dining hall, picking up two orders of spicy fish dango. The dish was notoriously spicy, so much so that most of the students avoided touching it. However, it was one of the few dishes that Felix and Sylvain could agree on since they both liked most spicy dishes.

Surprisingly, the Gautier noble didn’t pick a table to eat at. Instead, Felix ended up following him to the side gardens next to the dining hall. A patch of land scattered with carefully maintained trees and polished benches.

“Why are we out here?” Felix frowned.

Sylvain gave him a wink, “It’s more romantic.”

“Excuse me?!” Felix stammered.

The noble laughed, “Just a little joke, Fe.”

Felix landed a hard punch into Sylvain’s arm, almost causing the noble to drop his food. Now more irritated, the moment Sylvain picked a bench to sit at, Felix made sure to put as much distance between the two as physically possible.

Still, despite how annoyed he was, he did appreciate the distraction from training. He hated to admit that he hadn’t eaten as much as he should’ve been the past few days and Sylvain, as obnoxious as he was, wasn’t the worst person to join eating a meal with.

That honor, of course, went to the boar.

“This brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Sylvain asked rhetorically, “How we’d pack snacks and go exploring the woods near the Gautier estate?”

“I don’t understand how wandering around dark and cold woods for hours brings back pleasant memories.”

“I thought they were nice,” Sylvain shrugged, “I remember we were out once, and you fell and scraped your knees. But from how much you cried, someone would think that you’d broken a bone or something. I had to carry you on my back all the way back to the estate!”

Felix glared, “How is that a ‘good memory’, Sylvain?”

“I mean, it wasn’t a good memory. But I kind of miss those days when we were younger and stupid,” Sylvain stared at the trees, “You know, a bunch of dumb kids running around a forest and not worrying about noble crap.”

The swordsman rolled his eyes, “That was a very long time ago, Sylvain.”

Sylvain took a bite of food, thought again, then asked something that made the taste of the spices from the dango Felix had just eaten go numb, “Hey, do you remember Nuray? That Bernese dog we had?”

He looked over at Sylvain, who was just eating his food normally. As if he hadn’t just casually brought up what was one of the most painful things that had happened to him in his childhood like he was talking about the weather.

Felix swallowed, “Yeah… I remember. She was a good dog. Probably the only dog I could tolerate.”

Sylvain smiled, “Yeah, she was a good girl.”

The swordsman felt cold, thinking back to that dog. Sylvain had wanted a dog as a kid and had gotten one as a gift from his parents. That dog was annoyingly loud and friendly and would nip at fingers playfully. More than that, Felix remembered how happy his friend had been when he had that dog… and how devastated he was when Nuray went “missing” just a few months after Sylvain had gotten her.

“Why bring that up now?”

“Hm, I don’t really know,” Sylvain admitted, “There’s a lot of stray animals around the monastery, including dogs that the kitchen will feed scraps to. It just got me thinking of those days.”

Felix took another bite of spicy dango, trying to avoid talking about this. Those days, as far as he could remember, were filled with nothing but misery. Nothing but nights of Felix arguing with his father, waiting for days hoping a dead man would return and seeing his best friend come back week after week with a new injury that happened by “another accident”.

“I don’t miss those days at all,” Felix stated, harshly.

Sylvain frowned, “Not even a bit?”

“No. Why should I? It’s not like I can ever go back to that time. Not that I’d ever  _ want _ to go back anyway,” Felix looked at Sylvain with a narrow gaze, “I don’t understand why you’re bringing this up. You hate being sentimental.”

“Yeah, but…” The Gautier noble looked to Felix, his expression a bit softer, “I mean, I haven’t seen you since Miklan left, Fe. We got so caught up in other things that we didn’t even see each other until we got here. It’s just been a while, that’s all. I almost didn’t recognize you; you used to be so carefree when we were younger.”

The Fraldarius noble felt a weight in his chest but quickly shook it off. He had wasted enough time dwelling on these pointless wisps of memories and wasn’t going to be tricked into giving them any more attention than they deserved.

“I can’t say the same for you,” Felix remarked, “You’re just how I remember you being all those years ago. An annoying idiot.”

“Not a scoundrel?”

Felix brushed a few crumbs off his fingers, briefly looking down at a thin, pale scar that lined his right palm as he did so, “Don’t worry, you’re still a scoundrel.”

Sylvain laughed, “Good to hear that.”

“If you’re just going to bring up more pointless shit, then I’m going back to training.” Felix gathered up his utensils and began to walk back to the dining hall.

Sylvain quickly got to his feet, “Wait, come on Fe-!”

“Don’t call me that,” Felix snapped.

“Why not? Did I do something to annoy you?”

“No.”

“Then what-”

Felix turned on the Gautier noble sharply, though it was lessened by their notable height difference, “Sylvain, just shut up!”

The Gautier noble looked at him, shocked, “Felix…!”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two, and then the Fraldarius noble felt a pang of guilt. He sighed, “Sorry, that was out of line.”

Sylvain’s expression grew more concerned, “Are you okay?”

The swordsman shook his head, “Look, I’m not in the mood to talk about this kind of stuff.”

“Is this about the mock battle?”

“No, not the mock battle. I don’t care about that,” Felix straightened, “I just don’t like thinking about those things. Maybe you can find good things out of it, but I can’t and you know exactly why.”

Sylvain looked remorseful, “Sorry, I didn’t think…”

“Whatever, I’m done looking back at those days,” Felix started to walk back towards the dining hall, “What matters now is the present.”

Before he could get far, he felt a hand grab at his shoulder. Felix turned, seeing Sylvain standing right behind him, holding his arm.

He let out an annoyed growl, “Sylvain-”

“Fe, please wait,” He said quickly.

“What now?”

Sylvain let Felix go, his expression hard to read, “Look, I don’t want to end this on a bad note. I dragged you out here because I was worried about you.”

“Worried?” Felix scoffed a bit.

“Yeah, imagine that, being worried about my best friend,” Sylvain ran a hand over the back of his neck, “I mean, this is the first real conversation I’ve had with you in two years.”

Felix was about to retort back but paused realizing that Sylvain was right for once.

“I meant to keep in touch, really,” Sylvain sounded apologetic, “But things just got complicated.”

Felix bit the inside of his cheek briefly in thought, “Things have always been complicated. It’s not entirely your fault either, I’ve been caught up in duke nonsense thanks to my father.”

“Seems like we’re both a little to blame,” Sylvain gave a sad smile, “So, come on, we’re stuck here for a year before we officially take up whatever noble bullshit is waiting for us. I’d like to use that time catching up on lost time with my best friend if you don’t mind.”

Felix hated it when Sylvain could pull together a smart sentence like that, and even more so that the idea almost made him grin. Felix let out another frustrated sigh, “That’s fine, just don’t interrupt my training.”

“I’ll train with you.”

“Since when do you ever train?”

Sylvain was quiet, then he gave a big, obnoxious grin, “Then I’ll cheer for your victory from the sidelines and bring you lunch.”

“Deal- shit.” Felix cursed, having responded automatically.

“Too late, can’t take that back!” Sylvain laughed, giving Felix a light shove on the shoulder.

“You are such an idiot…” Felix grumbled, walking back to the dining hall with Sylvain right behind him.

“Well, you’re stuck with this idiot now.”

Even though Felix would never admit it out loud, not even if he had to, he was happy to have his friend back. Time spent in Fraldarius had been harsh, even a little lonely. Felix didn’t mind being alone, however, there were still limits to how much isolation a person could take.

And as annoying as Sylvain was, he was still his closest friend. He would risk his life for him, again and again for his dumb ass. Hopefully, though, in those two years, Sylvain learned how to wield a lance without hitting himself in the face.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

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5/5

Harpstring Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Leonie

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_ There was a rare time at dawn when the sun started to rise, but the sky was still too dark for someone normal to see properly. _ It was a time where animals like cats and early rising birds were just starting to wake up, and the morning air was cold no matter how far into spring it got. For the inexperienced, they more often than not ended up tripping over roots in the dark and scaring away prey.

But for Leonie, she could navigate through the dim light easily. She was raised by hunters, taught to be light on her feet and to rely on senses like touch and sound just as much as she relied on her eyes. Her feet ran over rough patches of grass, over large, slick rocks and through the thick trees, not once making so much as a sound.

In the dim light, she came across a small clearing. And there, barely catching a glimpse, she saw movement. She slowed her pace, ducking low to the ground and squinting against the dark.

The shape of a bird, possibly a pheasant, barely stood out in the dark trees and grass. Its head looking around frantically for any potential threats. It stood with its wings spread just slightly, preparing to fly.

With nimble fingers, steady and quiet, Leonie took one arrow from her quiver and placed it between her bowstring. She pulled back, her hands and body still, her eyes locking onto the target and her heartbeat beating against her pulse.

_ Steady now. Pull the string all the way back to your ear. Clear your head, Leonie. Keep your feet solid. _

She inhaled a soft, deep breath.

_ Exhale… and release. _

She let go.

_ Thunk _

There came a terrible squawk, but only for a moment before there came a dull  _ thud. _ Leonie walked into the clearing, her feet crunching against the forest floor. The trees were a little brighter now, enough for her to see her prey; a large and rather plump-looking pheasant lay on the ground. It’s eye empty, staring at the morning sky unmoving, it’s brown and ruby-colored wings crooked and the wooden arrow sticking out of its neck.

“Sorry, it’s nothing personal,” Leonie mumbled, picking up the dead animal and pulling the arrow out in a way as to not break the weapon.

She was proud of her shot and wondered if Captain Jeralt would be proud too. She had improved since the last time she saw him, of course. Maybe they could hunt again, just like before.

Leonie held the bird by its feet, deciding that the kitchen at the monastery could make better use out of the prey, and began the quiet walk back home. The cold morning air bit at her face and legs, but she didn’t mind the cold. She was used to walking early in the morning like this, and it brought back nice memories of home. All the while, she whistled a tune that Jeralt had taught her and Byleth when they were younger. A way for them to pass the time, and to always know where the other one was if they needed it.

Walking back through the marketplace, the sounds of stoking fires, dogs barking and the smell of baking bread hit her senses. A sharp contrast to the smell of oak and dirt from before, but just as welcoming.

“Out hunting this morning, Leonie?”

She stopped before she entered the main gates, turning to see Captain Jeralt walking from the direction of the lake. He was dressed in armor as usual, and he carried a line of fish over his shoulder.

Leonie smiled, “Morning, Captain Jeralt! Finished some early morning fishing?”

Jeralt shrugged a bit, “I caught too many, so I figured the kitchen could use the extra meat.”

She laughed, “You haven’t changed at all, Captain Jeralt.”

He sighed, “I suppose not.”

Jeralt began to walk in the direction of the kitchen, Leonie following him all the way. He looked to her catch and raised his eyebrows briefly.

“You got that all on your own?”

“Impressed?” Leonie gave a proud smile, holding the carcass a bit higher.

“Not bad, kid,” Jeralt nodded, though his expression was still a bit stoic he seemed proud, “You’ve gotten better since the last time I saw you.”

“A lot can change in five years, Captain,” She squinted at him, “Funny though, you haven’t changed much at all.”

He shrugged, “I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

The two entered the kitchen, and they briefly talked to the kitchen staff and handed over their prey. The workers were actually surprised, even a little excited to see Leonie’s pheasant over the six fish Jeralt caught.

“This is a good one,” The head chef exclaimed, delighted, “It’ll make a fine meal! Thank you, Leonie Pinelli!”

Leonie felt her chest swell with pride, “Of course!”

Jeralt almost smiled at her, then he started to walk away.

“Hey, where are you going, Captain?” Leonie turned and followed him, but only after thanking the kitchen briefly.

“I was just going to the lake, you should get some sleep.”

“No way,” She scowled, “I haven’t seen you in five years! I want to talk to you!”

“Why waste your morning talking to an old man like me?” Jeralt paced the edge of the pond.

“Are you surprised?”

He sighed, “Not really. Alright then, you win,” Jeralt turned to face the hunter, “How’d you end up here, then?”

Leonie crossed her arms, “I owe it to my village. They passed plates around to get enough coin to send me here. I’m going to study hard, and become a mercenary. Then I’ll pay them back for everything they did for me.”

“They always were a good group,” Jeralt reminisced, “Tonja made really good ale too.”

Leonie smiled, “The absolute best. I could live off it if you let me.”

“You drink now too? Geez, it really has been a while. The last time you tried ale you spat it right into Byleth’s face.”

Leonie let out a laugh, “I remember that. She got revenge on me in that brawl though.”

Jeralt cracked a smile, “I think that was one of the only times I ever saw her almost get angry.”

“I guess they haven’t changed much either,” Leonie scowled, “Except for Byriel. When did he get so tall?”

The last time Leonie had seen the twins, she was taller than both of them. Byriel was noticeably shorter than his sister as well, and often she joked that his short stature was due to him not drinking enough milk. Honestly, if it weren’t for the hair and face, she would’ve never recognized the guy.

“I have no idea, but he got taller and now he thinks he’s the ‘alpha twin’ or some shit like that,” Jeralt shook his head, exhausted, “In a way, I’m glad they don’t know which one is the older twin. Otherwise they’d never let the other hear the end of it.”

“And what about you, Captain?” Leonie asked, “Have you done anything in the last five years?”

“A lot, I guess. But those aren’t really interesting stories.”

“Nothing is ever boring if it comes from you, Captain!”

Jeralt sighed, “Good grief…”

“Okay, fine,” She pouted a bit, “Can I at least ask you what brought you to the monastery?”

Jeralt went quiet, then he looked at Leonie with a strange, almost somber expression, “Ah… right. Well, I have Alois to thank for that one. Recommending Byleth and Byriel to be professors.”

She made a face, “But isn’t that a little odd? I mean, I know they’re smart, but professors?”

“Trust me, I worry about that too,” Jeralt crossed his arms, looking serious.

Leonie straightened, “Well, you can at least count on me to keep an eye on Byriel at least. I’ll make sure that Claude doesn’t mess with him.”

Jeralt’s expression shifted to one she once saw when a poacher threw an insult at him once. But only briefly.

“Uh, Captain?”

“I’ll keep an eye on Claude as well.”

Leonie frowned, “Aw, come on, Captain. I don’t think Claude caused  _ too _ much trouble.”

“I’d rather not risk that. It’s Byriel we’re talking about. You know that he’s a little…” Jeralt struggled for the right words, “A little odd.”

She couldn’t argue. Out of the two, she remembered Byriel being the weird one. Not one for fishing or hunting, preferring to read off on his own and to do things in a way that made sense to only him. But… because he was different in some ways, it made her want to keep him safe as well. He was still Captain Jeralt’s son, no matter how odd he could be.

“I’m pretty sure Byriel can take care of himself, Captain Jeralt.”

Jeralt looked to Leonie, “Regardless, he’s my son. I have to keep an eye on him.”

“Right,” She sighed, understanding the logic. 

The mercenary looked to hunter, “Well, I’m glad to see you again, Leonie. I really am, it’s nice to see another familiar face here.”

She smiled, “Yeah, who would’ve guessed we’d see each other again here?”

“I guess the goddess has a sense of humor,” He shook his head, “Either way, make sure Byriel behaves himself, alright? Just because he’s a professor now doesn’t mean he knows everything.”

Leonie nodded once, “Of course, Captain. I’m your first apprentice, after all.”

He cracked a small smile, “Still calling yourself that?”

“Always.”

“I think the By’s would disagree.”

Leonie looked indignant, “Well, I’ll prove you wrong!” 

He chuckled a little.

She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt jealous. However… she didn’t know why exactly. Maybe it was because of their childhood rivalry? The fact that Byriel was placed as her professor and now had authority over her he didn’t have before? Or… was it because she still felt a sense of betrayal at their sudden departure all those years ago?

Still… she was just happy to see her hero again. Happy to see him, and the two odd twins who she called friends.

Jeralt looked over the lake, “Alright then, I expect that you’ll keep your promise.”

She smiled, “Just you wait, Captain. I’ll show you just how much I’ve improved!”

“I’m not someone easily surprised, Leonie.”

“I accept that challenge!” She laughed. Being his first apprentice meant that she had shoes to fill. And Jeralt had left large footprints that impacted the lives of not just herself, but her small village that no one else would’ve even given a second glance to. He was the type of person she wanted to become; someone who was strong and kind, and could help people who couldn’t defend themselves.

She would become a great mercenary, just like her hero, without relying on Byriel if she could help it.

“Good grief, it’s too early in the morning for challenges,” Jeralt looked to the dining hall, “I need some food before I go on today’s mission.”

“Do you want some company Captain?” Leonie asked.

She almost expected him to decline, but he shrugged, “Why not? You need to eat too. Come on.”

Leonie felt a sense of pride that her idol had accepted her offer, and followed him close behind as they passed through the main gates. Standing there was a lone man in armor, and the moment Jeralt looked at him the guard smiled.

“Greetings Captain! Nothing to report!”

Jeralt nodded, “Good to hear it.”

The two walked back in the direction of the dining hall, and Leonie could already see a few early riser students in the main hall. Most of them were from the Blue Lion and Black Eagle houses. The prince and princess, lords like Felix, Sylvain, Caspar, Ferdinand, and Lorenz, they were all gathered in their own individual groups.

Funny, now that Leonie thought about it, the only time the Golden Deer house had gotten together in a similar manner was during the welcome party for the Eisner twins and the celebration for the mock battle victory. Other than that, she really didn’t know the Golden Deer house much. They hadn’t gotten together in a similar fashion.

She frowned, wondering if it was nice having a class so close like the Blue Lions or Black Eagles.

Jeralt passed through the entrance to the dining hall, but as Leonie herself walked through, the back of her shoulder was painfully slammed into by another guard walking in behind her.

“H-Hey!” She cried out angrily.

Before the guard could get in further, Jeralt spun around and stood in his path, staring him down angrily.

“What are you, half-asleep or something? You almost knocked her down!”

The guard was quiet for a long moment, staring at Captain Jeralt with a blank expression. Suddenly the air felt very sour to Leonie. A feeling she sometimes got when she knew that there was some unseen force lurking behind her.

Then, just as quickly, it vanished as the guard perked up and smiled at Jeralt, “Ah, where are my manners this morning?”

He turned to Leonie, still grinning widely, “Terribly sorry, miss. It won’t happen again. Did I hurt you accidentally?” 

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Leonie scowled, “But you really should be more careful!”

“I will, thank you miss.” He gave a bow, but he didn’t for too long before straightening his posture and walking into the dining hall.

Jeralt huffed, annoyed, “Might need to reevaluate some of the guards here.”

Leonie rolled her eyes, “I’ll say.”


	14. Chapter 13: Classes and Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EldritchGremlin: Hello hello! Happy Holidays and sorry for not uploading last week, the holidays were crazy for us! But we made the chapter extra beefy for all you lovely people :> But I do have something I want to address. We noticed some interesting comments when we posted our last chapter and while we don't mind criticism and allow whatever comments to be posted, someone rudely replied to another reader. At their request, we took the comment down. We will not tolerate rude/mean replies to other readers! Anyway, I hope you all love overprotective Jeralt and look into something that happened to Byriel :>

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Thirteen⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Classes and Coffee ⋅ ✦

* * *

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5/12

Harpstring Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Byleth

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_ It felt as if time had passed too quickly for Byleth. _ After trying to become more associated with the monastery grounds, the students she would be teaching, she thought she’d at least have more time to mentally prepare for what was to come next. But the day came when classes were meant to start without waiting.

The feeling she had when she woke up that morning was similar to the tense emotions she felt whenever Jeralt’s band of mercenaries were preparing to go into a major fight. She lay in bed, staring out at the rising sunlight. After watching for a few moments, she heard the monastery bells ring out six times, signaling for her to get up. Byleth took a breath, paused for a moment, and then turned to her right.

There, sleeping deeply and facing the wall, was Byriel. He lay on his side, and annoyingly he had hogged most of the covers in the night. But that was normal for him, honestly. He got cold very easily and constantly stole the blankets while they slept.

“Come on, By,” Byleth shook his shoulder, “Time to get up.”

Byriel didn’t move.

“By, wake up.”

He still didn’t move, despite her shaking his shoulder.

Byleth sighed, grabbed his shoulder with both hands, and shook him violently. Her twin let out a sound that was a cross between a groan and a whine.

“Go away,” Byriel whined, pulling his arm away and shoving the pillow over his head.

“Byriel, we have class.”

“We’re not students…”

“We're professors, By.”

He let out another whine. This called for drastic measures; Byleth crawled out of bed, stood over him, grabbed onto the edge of the blankets and pulled harshly.

Byriel let out another angry whine, shifting around on the mattress in an attempt to get warm again. He struggled desperately for a few more moments, but then he finally gave up and lifted the pillow from his face, glaring at her with the rage of a thousand suns.

“You suck.”

“And you have students to teach,” Byleth picked up her brother’s coat from the back of her desk’s chair, and threw it at his face, “Put your clothes on.”

Byriel let out another groan, using his coat as a makeshift blanket and burying his face back under the pillow.

While her brother attempted to go back to bed, Byleth pulled her clothes on and put her shoes on all without having her brother to remind her. As she put on her boots, Byriel _ finally _ started to sit up in bed. His midnight colored hair was an absolute mess, and his expression was borderline murderous.

Even after he had gotten dressed and made it to the dining hall, Byriel still hadn’t completely woken up. While Byleth ate a simple meal of toast and tea, her brother leaned his cheek against his palm. His gaze was distant, a very clear indicator to Byleth that her brother’s brain hadn’t completely woken up.

“By?” She waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn’t respond immediately.

After two seconds, he blinked and looked over at her, “Hm?”

“How late did you stay up last night, By?”

“Late.”

She sighed, “You can’t stay up as late now, By. You have classes to teach.”

He let out a groan, resting his head against the table, “But I don’t usually get tired until later.”

Before Byleth could scold him further, a familiar person walked by their table. A somewhat sinister-looking individual.

“Tired, professor?” Hubert asked the semi-conscious twin.

“Huh?” Byriel turned up to look at the student, his eyelids half-closed.

Byleth glanced over at Hubert, “He’s usually like this in the morning.”

“I see… so that’s one of your weaknesses.” He seemed to make a mental note of that, right as Byriel let out another tired whine and turned his face back against the table.

“By, go get some coffee or something,” Byleth poked the top of his head, “That’ll help you wake up.”

“I don’t like coffee.”

Hubert gave him a look, almost disappointed, “That’s a shame to hear. I find it more favorable than tea.”

“Why? It tastes like mud.”

Byleth sighed, “You’re just annoyed because dad likes drinking the really dark and bitter kind of coffee, and therefore you’re also stuck drinking it.”

“All coffee tastes bitter and gross.”

The valet to the future emperor frowned, and though his expression was difficult to read it was obvious that he was disappointed in the twin’s under-appreciation of coffee, “Clearly, you’ve never tried coffee from Dagda.”

“Is it good?” Byleth asked.

Hubert crossed his arms, “I would say that it’s an acquired taste. However, I would also say that the taste is considerably mild as far as darker brews go, so it is more preferable to those who don’t typically drink coffee.”

“Where’s Dagda again?” Byriel mumbled from the table.

Hubert and Byleth fell silent, both of them realizing just how out of it Byriel was.

“Do they have that here?” Byleth asked, in hopes that the aforementioned coffee was available to wake up her brother.

“They do.”

Byleth pulled herself up from the table, “I’ll be right back.”

The valet straightened his stance a bit, “Please do. It would be rather troublesome if the teaching assistant to the Black Eagle house were this depleted.”

Byleth paused in her step, looking back to the sinister valet, “Oh, you heard about that?”

He watched the former mercenary with cold precision, “Why yes, it is one of my many duties is to determine potential advantages and potential threats to Her Highness. She seemed rather pleased at yours and your brother’s efforts to aid the Black Eagle house.”

She nodded, “That’s good to hear.”

“Her Highness has high expectations for both of you,” Hubert stated, more as a warning, “Best you two don’t disappoint her.”

Before Byleth could respond, the valet turned and left the dining hall. She didn’t have a lot of time to linger on the warning though and pushed that aside to grab an ornate teacup filled with the bitter drink. Also adding in a bit of sugar and milk in an attempt to make the drink more tolerable for her twin.

When she set the cup and saucer in front of Byriel, he sat up and gave it a suspicious look, “What the heck?”

“Does it smell bad or something?” She couldn’t tell, not being one to know the difference between good and bad coffee.

“Kinda? It smells spicy?”

“Try it.”

He hesitated, but then picked up the cup. After another pause, he gave it the barest sip. Byriel’s expression morphed into slight surprise, and he took another cautious drink.

“Well?” Byleth raised an eyebrow.

“It kind of tastes like cinnamon and strawberries.”

“Strawberries?” She wasn’t expecting that answer and couldn’t help but stifle a small laugh.

Byriel took another drink, thought for a moment, then looked up at Byleth, “Remind me to give Hubert an ‘A’ later today.”

She nodded, taking a sip of tea, “Sure thing, By.”

The two ate the rest of their food quickly, though Byriel finished his coffee halfway between their breakfast. At the end of it, he still looked tired but he had life in him. In the distance the two could hear the monastery bells ring seven times, signaling for the two to head out.

“You ready for this?” Byriel asked, finishing off the last remaining drops of coffee.

“Uh… kind of?” She gathered up her papers and books.

“Same here,” Byriel shrugged a little, “I guess we just have to figure this out.”

They both rose to their feet and walked in the direction of the Officer’s Academy. Along the way, they spotted several monks and priests making their way across the monastery grounds, along with dozens of uniformed students and guards. The two decided to walk the long way, which took them through the market outside the monastery and past one guard standing by the gates.

“Greetings! You two must be the new professors! What a pleasure!” He said cheerily.

“H-Hello.” Byleth greeted.

“You’re the gatekeeper…?” Byriel asked.

“That’s right!” He nodded, proudly, “My job is to stand here at this glorious entrance and leisurely watch over the comings and goings of everyone. Makes folks smile, you know? Er, and by that, I mean…” He laughed nervously, “To vigilantly guard this entrance with my very life! No levity whatsoever. As of now, nothing to report.”

Byleth felt the sudden urge to protect this man from everything evil in the world.

“Thank you for your diligence.” Byriel nodded, approving of the gatekeeper’s work.

“Yeah, keep it up, please.” Byleth herself almost smiled.

The gatekeeper nodded, giving a salute, “I’m on it, professors! Good luck on your first day!”

After the pleasant distraction, the two finally walked on through the rest of the monastery and to the Officer’s Academy. They first stopped outside the Golden Deer classroom and took a moment to stare at the door.

“I guess we’ll be spending the morning and evening here…”

Byriel nodded, “Right, and in the afternoon we go to the Black Eagles classroom while Hanneman and Manuela give lectures to other students.”

“Seems reasonable,” She looked over to her other half, “Don’t fall asleep on them, By.”

Her brother made a face and gave his sister a slight shove, “And don’t go hiding behind a desk, By.”

She shoved him back, smirking a little as she departed, “I’ll see you around, professor.”

He watched her go, and called after her, “Same here, professor.”

Byleth marched onward, reaching the Blue Lion classroom and pushing the doors open. There were already students lingering inside; Ingrid, Annette, and Mercedes.

“Ah, professor!” Ingrid smiled a bit and gave a brief bow as Byleth walked in, “Good to see you this morning.”

“You three as well,”

Annette approached Byleth, grinning widely, “I’m so excited to start today’s lesson, professor! I already read a bit ahead in the books, and I have a few questions to ask you about reason magic.”

“A-Already?” Byleth asked, surprised.

“Yeah!” She beamed.

Mercedes gave a gentle laugh, “Now Annie, don’t work yourself too hard.”

“How can I relax when there’s so much more to do?” Annette protested, “I want to learn everything I can!”

“I had a few questions to ask you myself, professor,” Ingrid spoke up, “I was curious to hear what your thoughts were on aerial strategy.”

“Aerial?”

“I was a bit curious in learning more about pegasus and wyvern riders, and your strategies at the mock battle were still amazing despite our loss,” Ingrid explained.

Byleth thought for a moment, “I-I think I could come up with something…”

“Now now, don’t overwhelm her,” Mercedes lightly scolded, but doing so with that same gentle smile, “I’m sure that there will be plenty of time to ask everything.”

Annette and Ingrid straightened in realization.

“Ah, terribly sorry, professor.” Ingrid bowed quickly.

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” Annette frowned, looking remorseful.

Byleth shook her head, growing determined, “No, it’s alright. I’d be more than happy to hear each of you individually.”

“Really?” Annette asked, excited.

She nodded, “Of course.”

There came another ring from the monastery, signaling for the beginning of class. One by one, slowly and surely, each member of the Blue Lion class filed into the room and took their destined seats. As Byleth stood behind the teacher’s desk, she immediately got a general idea of who was going to be more motivated to attend class. Students like Dimitri, Ingrid, Dedue, and Annette were the ones who made it bright and early. Ashe and Felix were there shortly after, and Sylvain was a bit late. Likely, Mercedes would run slightly late as well, but it was something she could work with.

At the final ring of the bell, Byleth took a steadying breath. _ Demons aren’t afraid of anything. _ Everyone was looking at her with varying degrees of anticipation, and an encouraging smile from the prince helped Byleth’s nerves settle. 

She removed her glasses from its case, and put them comfortably over her eyes, “Alright, let’s begin.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Claude

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_ Byriel Eisner wasn’t a morning person. _ Or, at least, that’s what Claude gathered in the first ten minutes after class had started. The professor had a somewhat glazed look over his eyes and his movements were sluggish, so much so that Claude actually wondered if the professor was about to pass out.

Still, as exhausted as he seemed, he still had a means of managing the class. Though, it was in his own way.

“Alright,” He looked down at his notes, “Does anyone here know why Loog was able to defeat the Adrestian Empire during the War of the Eagle and Lion?”

No one moved. It was too early in the morning to do so.

Byriel frowned, “Well, don’t all jump up at once.”

More silence.

“Don’t make me call on you randomly!”

Claude, deciding to be the one to fall on the sword, raised his hand lazily.

“Go ahead, Claude.”

“Really bad weather?”

Byriel tilted his head a bit, “That’s half of it.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Bad weather and terrain. Those factors can help your strategy, or break it over its knee,” Byriel shrugged, “At least someone was almost paying attention.”

Claude smirked a bit, “Well when someone like you is teaching, it’s impossible _ not _ to pay attention.”

Byriel was quiet, then he said bluntly as he narrowed his eyes in confusion, “Well, who _ else _ are you supposed to be paying attention to?”

Claude could hear Hilda giggling quietly behind him. The noble couldn’t tell if Byriel was actually being serious or not. He also noticed, out of the corner of his eye, Leonie giving him a disapproving scowl.

However, he quickly forgot about all of it as the lecture went on with Byriel explaining how weather and terrain could greatly affect the chances of victory. It wasn’t exactly knowledge Claude didn’t know, but Byriel somehow made it more interesting with his odd attention to detail as to when exactly the right time to attack would be during a rainstorm, right down to what time of day it was best to launch a sneak attack and how many units to bring.

To someone not paying attention, the lecture might’ve resembled nonsense. However, Byriel seemed to know just when someone’s attention was slipping away and knew how to get them back. Either by asking them a sudden question or… 

A pencil suddenly sailed across the room, hitting against Hilda’s desk with a _ thunk _ and causing her to jolt upright with a short shriek.

Byriel pointed at her, “I’m trying to save your life here, so don’t fall asleep on me.”

Hilda whined a bit, “This is boring!”

“You won’t be saying that when this saves your life, Hilda.”

Claude laughed a bit; one-moment Byriel seemed so exhausted, but now he seemed more full of energy now that he was talking about a subject he knew very well.

Or maybe it was the teacup filled with coffee on his desk. Either way, he was much more lively.

At the end of everything, Byriel also took the time to meet with each individual student who had questions regarding different abilities. Claude didn’t even want to think about how much time he likely spent going over every possible subject, and just thinking about it made his head hurt.

Eventually, it was Claude’s turn to stand before Byriel. And it was after everyone else had gone out for lunch as well, leaving the two alone.

“So,” Byriel stared at him questioningly, “I know you can use a bow, but are you familiar with any other weapon?”

“Don’t need to be,” Claude shrugged, “they're usually dead before they even hit the battlefield.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“You’ve seen me kill, Teach.” Claude pointed out.

Byriel shuffled through his notes, “I have, but those bandits were trying to kill us first. I saw how you aimed during the mock battle, and you usually go for non-fatal spots.”

“Huh, well, you’re pretty observant.” He huffed a laugh.

“I just like paying attention to smaller details, Claude,” Byriel looked up at him, “Aiming for non-vital spots on the body aren’t easy to do. It’d be easier to just shoot to kill, but you do it anyway. So that tells me that you don’t like killing.”

The noble leaned against one of the columns in the room, “Who does really? Other than insane monsters?”

The professor lightly bit the inside of his cheek, thinking, “Fair enough. Alright then, could you at least tell me where you learned how to aim so precisely?”

Claude smiled a bit, “Is that a compliment I hear?”

Byriel frowned.

He chuckled, “I learned the basics from watching a few warriors and fine-tuned the rest on my own.”

“Warriors from House Riegan?”

“You could say that,” Claude shrugged, “They wield bows while riding wyverns.”

Byriel blinked, “You have soldiers who can shoot bows… while flying?”

“Pretty impressive, right?”

“Is that what you want to do?”

“I was going to already-” Claude trailed off as the professor dragged his index finger over his palm in a writing motion. The noble gave him a look, “What are you doing?”

“Making a note to put you on skywatch duty next week with Hilda,” Byriel stated.

“Hilda?” Claude laughed suddenly, “You know nothing is going to get done if you put us together, right?”

“You worked well together during the mock battle, and I want to see how Hilda will do with skywatch. You’re both more likely to get stuff done if you two are together. If it works out well, she could be a good wyvern rider. If not, I’ll know now instead of later.”

“I get that, but why are you doing this?” Claude mimicked the gesture.

“Oh, that’s just so I’ll remember it better.”

“You don’t strike me as the forgetful type.”

Byriel pressed his lips together, his expression unreadable, “Not usually.”

Claude raised an eyebrow. Then he smirked a little, “You’re quite a character, Teach.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all, it’s just interesting to me. For someone who doesn’t show a lot of emotion, you still seem to have quite a personality.”

The professor squinted at Claude from behind his glasses, “It’s my best trait, according to Byleth.”

Claude gave a smirk, “I wouldn’t say it’s your _ best _ trait.”

The professor’s eyes widened briefly, then he frowned, “Well, that doesn’t matter too much right now. For now, I’ll do some reading on wyvern riding for you.”

“Just for me, Teach?” Claude slightly teased, hoping to get a better reaction from the seemingly cold professor.

Byriel made a face, “You’re my student, of _ course, _ I’m going to do whatever I can to help you. Why wouldn’t I?”

Again, Claude had no idea if the professor genuinely didn’t get what he had said or if he was messing with him. He guessed the latter, just by how bluntly Byriel had stated the words. Though in all honesty, he had no idea how to discern the mercenary’s personality; he had so many different sides to his personality, ranging from a cold mercenary to a calculating strategist and somewhat childish young man, that it both intrigued Claude and made him weary.

Once Byriel had finished drawing… whatever it was on his hand, he glanced over at Claude, “You’re dismissed for now. I’ll see you this evening with everyone else.”

“Got it, Teach,” Claude gave a sly smirk to Byriel as he left, “Don’t work yourself too hard on my account.”

Byriel actually rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance, “You sound like my sister.”

Claude laughed as he left the classroom, satisfied with the slight reaction he managed to get from Byriel Eisner. And with that, he made his way towards the training grounds to get in a little extra target practice. That, and to kill time for the kitchens to slow down enough for him to sneak in and cook for himself. Claude never let anyone else prepare food for him, not even on a bad day. Too much risk, even though the kitchen staff was pretty friendly to him overall.

As Claude crossed the yard to the training hall, he spotted Jeralt Eisner also standing at the entrance to the training halls, talking to a few guards with a stoic expression similar to Byriel’s. And before the noble could pass him, Jeralt looked over at him and called out, “You, you’re Claude, right?”

Claude stopped in his steps, looking over at the former knight, “Nice to see that you remember me!”

Jeralt’s expression didn’t lessen, but he did briefly look to the guards and give them a dismissal. In moments, Claude stood alone with the former knight and suddenly the noble felt a very familiar, and very disliked, sensation of danger.

“You’re the leader of Byriel’s class, aren’t you?”

“I am…?”

Jeralt crossed his arms, “And how is he doing as your professor?”

_ Why do I get the feeling I should run? _

“He’s doing well, I guess,” Claude shrugged, “I mean, it’s only been the first day.”

“I see…” Jeralt looked thoughtful, “And you haven’t been causing him any trouble, have you?”

Claude blinked, “Uh, what?”

“I hear you have a bit of a reputation for trouble.”

“I’m glad my reputation precedes me!” Claude laughed, though he immediately regretted the joke when he saw the stern expression on Jeralt’s face.

“Reputation aside,” Jeralt said in a warning tone, “Just keep that trouble away from my son, alright?”

Claude blinked. Was this guy being serious?

“Byriel has enough to worry about being a professor,” Jeralt continued, “So don’t go adding more onto his shoulders, von Riegan.”

_ Oh, Saints, he’s actually being serious right now. _

“I’m not the type to just stir up trouble unprovoked, trust me.” Claude frowned as he said it, “And I certainly wouldn’t drag the professor into it if it had nothing to do with him.”

“Good,” Jeralt walked past Claude quickly, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t be keeping my eye on you.”

Before Claude could respond, Jeralt was gone off to do… whatever it was he did and left the noble in dumbfounded confusion.

How was he supposed to react to something like that anyway? Was he supposed to be scared? Angry? Offended? Honestly, he didn’t even think of Jeralt Eisner as the overprotective type. Especially not overprotective of Byriel. Oddly enough though, even that was intriguing. There was more to find out about this strange family of mercenaries, and as stone-faced as they seemed they still had things that made them tick.

Claude shrugged off the initial shock and smirked a bit. Now, he was even more determined to learn more about the strange, and yet charmingly weird, Byriel Eisner.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

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5/19

Harpstring Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Dorothea

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_ Seeing the two newest faces to the monastery standing at the front of the Black Eagles classroom always seemed like the start of some kind of joke. _ Especially since Dorothea was fully aware that both twins had made their allegiances to Claude and Dimitri. And yet, for the past week, they stood at the front of the Black Eagle classroom together. Both of them looking over papers and talking to each other before getting their lectures underway.

It wasn’t until after that first day that Edie explained that the two were going to be assistants to Manuela and Hanneman that Dorothea decided to take them just a little bit more seriously. Only a little though, they were already so stern that it wouldn’t be any fun to match their attitudes.

Watching the two teach together almost resembled a comedic opera; one correcting the other while throwing in some light banter and perfectly timed jabs. It was entertaining, to say the least. A bit of color in the otherwise boring lecture that helped make learning things like magic equations and sword techniques fun.

She only wished that it wasn’t once a day, but sadly they were only assistants.

“Perhaps we can steal them away from the other two houses!” Dorothea suggested to Edie once their lecture on history had ended.

Edelgard frowned, “I wish we could, however, they have other duties to attend to.”

“What a shame,” Dorothea shook her head a little, “They’re honestly better suited to the Black Eagle class.”

“Uh, Dorothea?” Professor Byleth called from the front, “Your turn.”

The songstress rose to her feet and walked to them. The twin professors had made a somewhat odd habit of giving each student one-on-one instruction at the end of every lecture. Mostly just to talk about ways of improving techniques or guidance for whatever subjects they thought would be beneficial.

Again, so serious. But still, it was charming how they cared so much about their progress.

Byleth stood by the desk while her brother flipped through one of his many books, almost seemingly unaware of the songstress’s appearance before them.

“You mentioned before that you were already familiar with magic, right?” Byleth asked.

Dorothea nodded, “I am, though I prefer the Reason side of magic rather than the Faith side.”

“Nothing wrong with that, we can just focus on that,” Byleth tapped her brother on the shoulder, “You hear that, By?”

“I did,” Byriel replied, without looking up from whatever it was he was so engrossed with reading.

“I was going to ask you, professor,” Dorothea began, looking at the female twin.

She blinked, “Yes?”

“From what Edie has told me, you’re rather talented with sword fighting, aren’t you?”

“I guess I know a thing or two. Were you interested in learning more about that?”

Dorothea ran her fingers through her dark curls absent-mindedly, “I’m already familiar with most of the basics, but yes. I was curious to see what you could teach me.”

Byleth nodded, “Alright, I can do that.”

Dorothea gave the professor a well-practiced smile, “Thank you, Professor. You’re a sweetheart.”

The female professor’s eyes widened, and she looked confused. Even Byriel looked up, at last, from his book just as bewildered.

With that final notion, Dorothea took her leave back to her seat.

“Ferdinand, you’re next,” Byriel called out.

The mentioned noble, who sat in front of Dorothea, got up quickly. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Oh dear, we might be here for a while.”

Ferdie turned to her, smiling broadly, “I beg to differ! I am Ferdinand von Aegir, and I will not falter!”

“That’s great, Ferdinand,” Byriel said bluntly, “But can you not falter a little closer to the desk?”

“On my way, professor!” He declared happily, walking towards the front.

Dorothea felt her head ache a bit at Ferdie’s overwhelming energy. Perhaps he had also had a taste of whatever drink Byriel had with him that gave him so much determination to teach.

At the end of the lecture, there was a short break while the professors reshuffled and went back to their original classrooms. Dorothea would’ve loved to spend time chatting with a few handsome guards or taking a walk around the monastery. But, unfortunately, those plans were put on hold as Ferdie decided to approach her desk with that same wide smile.

“Dorothea! I hear you are also taking an interest in sword fighting!”

She smiled thinly, “Ah, you heard that, did you?”

“The professors made a mention of it! I had no idea that you were also versed with swords.”

Dorothea ran her fingertip over the polished wood, “Right, of course, you wouldn’t. I mean, why would a simple commoner know anything about something you big-shot nobles know so much about?”

Ferdinand looked shocked at her tone, “Wh-What? No, I-!”

“If you don’t mind, Ferdie, I have other things I would rather be looking at.”

“Like what?” Ferdie looked confused.

“Anything else.”

They were harsh and ugly words, but Dorothea wasn’t going to sugar-coat her feelings. Not when it came to high-and-mighty nobles like Ferdinand.

Ferdie didn’t leave though, he still stood confused and with a somewhat hurt expression, “I-I didn’t mean it as an insult, Dorothea! I was simply surprised to hear that you were well-versed in sword fighting and wanted to know if you needed-”

“I can take care of myself, Ferdie.” Dorothea dismissed.

The noble still refused to leave, persistent, “I just simply wanted to make sure you would be alright when we went to face the bandits. Noble or commoner, not everyone knows how to defend themselves. I don’t want any of my fellow classmates to be in potential danger, yourself included.”

A pit formed in Dorothea’s stomach at the mention of the bandits. Manuela and Hanneman had already told the class about the mission that was to come, about how they were being sent to dispose of criminals at the Red Canyon, but it made her uneasy. She had never killed before, had never had to spill the blood of another person. She had definitely learned self-defense, but had seldom used what she had learned.

What was most baffling to her was that this mission was supposed to be part of the church’s ‘teachings’. Though she had no idea what murdering for the goddess was meant to be educational, and from the sounds of it it was less about teaching them, and more like disposing of the blights upon the goddess’s green earth. Blights like bandits and crooks, those who didn’t believe in the teachings of Seiros… those who weren’t born with a Crest and had no place in the goddess’s design.

“Ferdie,” Dorothea gave him a cold look, “I am fully capable of watching my own back. Though, I’m not surprised a noble like you would underestimate a simple commoner like me.”

And before he could give a response, Dorothea stood up, “Now then, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

“Wait, Dorothea-!”

He didn’t follow her as she made good on that decision to take a walk around the monastery before class got underway again. The late afternoon was warm, and the air faintly smelled like wildflowers. Dorothea passed by a corner, stopping at a ledge that overlooked the grounds and gave a painted view of the cathedral on the other side of the bridge.

From where she stood, she could hear the choirs practicing in the distance. And, for a moment, she just took in the surroundings and let her mind wander away. Or, at least she tried to. But for whatever reason, it wandered to memories that were less desirable. Memories of scrounging through trash bins and being spit on by pretentious, high-and-mighty nobles. Despite it being a lifetime since those days, the feelings clung to Dorothea like a stubborn stain that could never be washed away. No matter how hard she tried, it always came back to rear its ugly head at the worst of times.

It wasn’t fair to put the entire blame on Ferdie, but whenever she saw him and that smile it made her blood boil. He wasn’t entirely to blame, but he was just like the rest of them; a bee attracted to a flower in full bloom.

At the sound of the monastery bells ringing out, Dorothea snapped back to the present and stretched out her arms. She didn’t realize how badly she needed the air until that moment. She began to walk back towards the classroom, holding her head up high and smiling as if she were about to perform again.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

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Imperial Year 1171

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_ The water of the fountain was the only source of purely clean water Dorothea could find that was available to her. It was cold but not unbearable as it had been in the previous winter months. She washed her legs as best she could first, scraping the dirt away as best she could. She didn’t have access to soap, nor did she have the money to buy such a luxury at that moment, so she had to resort to scrubbing away the layers of filth with her nails. _

_ But it wasn’t a bad day. She was happy, for the first time in a very long time that afternoon. While she had been walking down the alleys of Enbarr, searching for unattended garbage bins to scrounge for food, she had sung a song she had made up as a means of comfort in dark times. And while she was picking through the bins, singing the same song, she was approached by a woman wearing the most beautiful white fur coat Dorothea had ever seen. The woman introduced herself as a songstress, and even praised Dorothea for her voice. After a few minutes of the songstress giving Dorothea a few keys to sing, testing her range, she had told the child to come back later that evening to talk more. _

_ Excited and nervous, Dorothea wanted to make sure that she looked somewhat presentable on her return. Thus, the impromptu bath in the fountain. If this was her chance to escape a life on the streets then she was going to make sure she gave the best impression that she possibly could. She owned no nice clothing or shoes, but the best she could do was get as clean as she could. Her clothing, previously caked in mud, had been rinsed with the fountain water as well, washing away her old life as much as possible to embrace the one that could be. Her clothes were still somewhat damp to a point that they clung to her skin, and her hair was still dripping with droplets of water, but she hoped that the warm spring air would dry her off quickly. _

_ While she attempted to make her face look cleaner, she sang once more. Usually, she would’ve kept her voice down, but not that day. That day, she sang out loud and as best she could, remembering a few of the tips that the songstress had given her. In that short moment, she felt happy for the first time in a very long time. _

_ But… that didn’t last too long. _

_ Suddenly, from behind her came a loud crashing sound that caused her to shriek out mid-song in surprise and turn to the source of the noise. Several barrels and crates that had been propped up by a wall previously were now scattered around, a few even smashed to pieces. And, amidst all the clutter, was a boy. _

_ His hair was the color of marmalade, the sun hitting it in a way that made it seem to glow. His eyes were a similar color, his amber eyes wide with fear. He was dressed nicely, despite being a young boy, the expensive embroidery carefully sewn into the jacket he wore. His pants, however, were torn at the knee and his shoes were dirtied, likely as a result of the fall. _

_ Before Dorothea could say anything, the boy stumbled to his feet and made a run for it, almost tripping on the debris as he escaped into an alleyway and out of sight. It was only for a moment, maybe less, but the look he gave her stuck with Dorothea all these years. The glare he had given her, just like every other noble. _

_ A lifetime later, Dorothea recognized that same marmalade colored hair and amber eyes. All smiles and friendly words… just like a bee attracted to a flower in full bloom. He was no different than the rest of them. _

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

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5/30

Harpstring Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Byriel

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_ Besides having to wake up early in the morning, Byriel was beginning to enjoy teaching at the academy. _ He and Hubert had been getting along surprisingly well, the rather intimidating valet had been inviting him to drink coffee every morning and while they hadn’t talked much, Byriel had a feeling that they both enjoyed each other’s company before the insanity of class. Or at least he hoped so, it was a little hard to tell if Hubert had a unique way of making friends _ or _a unique way of lowering someone’s guard so he could assassinate them easier. Either way, Byriel was going to enjoy it even if he was in impending trouble.

Hubert wasn’t the only one Byriel was starting to become more familiar with; by this point, he had a good idea of what each of his student’s best strengths was and what their weaknesses were. He even managed to arrange a few more practice battles on the weekend for the students to better prepare for what was to come.

However, even with all that, Byriel knew that there was no real way to prepare for the first battle and the idea of killing someone. The first time he took someone’s life was barely after he became a mercenary; a brief struggle and one knife to the throat later, Byriel was covered in red stains and the bandit died a rather slow and gruesome death, choking on his own crimson blood for several minutes as the young mercenary watched in horror. Jeralt, tough as nails, had walked up to him once the bandit went still and sternly told him to close his heart to death, that it wouldn’t end there, but it would get easier.

Byriel didn’t like that thought though, people who had no regard for killing were ruthless monsters. Jeralt, while not a monster, was still cold, as he had closed his heart off to such luxuries as feeling bad for the enemy. Despite not wanting to completely disregard the importance of a person’s life, Byriel had since gotten used to watching lives burn away at the flick of his wrist, only leaving ashes of the dead behind. It was a cruel world, but he understood that against thieves and criminals, it was him or them.

On the second to last day of the month, there came a message from the knights. Both the Blue Lion and Golden Deer classes met in the entrance hall, though Byriel was still somewhat bleary from the lack of food or coffee in his system as he faced his class.

Claude smiled at Byriel as he approached, “Hey, Teach! Glad you could make it, we’ve been waiting on you.”

At that, Byriel let out a loud yawn, “Yes?”

Lorenz stepped forward, standing tall and proud as usual, “It seems the knights have our foes cornered. They are in Zanado, the Red Canyon.”

Briefly, Byriel glanced over at his sister. She spared him a brief, but confused look, then went back to addressing the Blue Lions.

“It’s bandit time?” Raphael asked eagerly, “That sounds like real knight work, let’s get to it!”

Leonie nodded, “Yeah, I’m itching to put my skills to the test as well. We have to win so Captain Jeralt can see how much I’ve learned!”

_ Can we please not talk about my dad this early in the morning? _

“I thought Jeralt wasn’t coming with us,” Ignatz looked to Byriel, confused.

“He’s not,” The professor shook his head, “Or at least, his job will be to contain the fighting if it gets out of hand.”

Ignatz looked disappointed for a moment, as well as a few more students. Likely, some of them were eager at the idea of seeing Jeralt the Bladebreaker in action. Sadly, that day wasn’t going to happen for a while. Maybe Byleth could convince him with enough ale.

“Either way, I’ll give it everything I’ve got.” Ignatz looked determined as he said it.

“Even if I go, it’s not like I’d be of any use…” Marianne mumbled, looking at the ground sadly.

“Don’t be like that, Marianne!” Hilda chided.

“Right,” Lysithea looked grim, “If we don’t work together and give it our all, we’re doomed to fail.”

Hilda stared at the younger student with wide eyes, “You can be pretty intense sometimes, Lysithea.”

“Well, someone has to take this seriously…” Lysithea huffed a bit.

Hilda smiled, “But I agree, let’s do our best!”

Byriel felt a little uneasy at their eagerness, but it was a lot better than if they were all dreading the upcoming mission.

“We’ll be fine,” He nodded, “I know it.”

Claude gave Byriel that same scheming face, “If we fight as well as we chatter, we’ll be fine. Especially if we have Teach leading us.”

“I have a few things in mind…” Byriel shuffled a bit in his stance, “But I have to see the Red Canyon before I can decide on any course of action.”

“We’ll be there as well…” Byleth spoke up, walking next to her brother as soon as the majority of her class went their separate ways to prepare, “The Blue Lion and Black Eagle classes will be put on different sides of the canyon to make sure none of the bandits get away. So we’ll be there to help you if needed.”

Byriel squinted at her, “I appreciate the offer, By, but I don’t think we’ll be that bad.”

Byleth frowned a little, “I’ve had your back since the day you first dropped your sword on the battlefield, By. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Don’t forget, we beat you in the mock battle.”

“Don’t forget,” She poked the side of his face, “I’ve saved your ass more than you saved mine.”

“You must be bad at counting then.”

“Maybe,” She slightly smirked, “But I’m still the alpha twin.”

A small wave of laughter rolled throughout the Golden Deer class.

“Bullshit,” Byriel gave his sister a shove.

She gave another slight smirk, but their banter was interrupted by one of the knights approaching the two. But he looked at Byriel as he said, “Professor, Captain Jeralt wanted to speak to you before you left.”

Byriel made a face, while Byleth looked slightly concerned. She had a far better relationship with their dad than Byriel did. For various reasons, they didn’t see eye to eye and rarely agreed on subjects. It was a tough-love relationship, but Byriel recalled that it had been worse at a point.

“Everything alright?” Claude asked.

“I guess I’ll find out,” Byriel followed the guard, “Lysithea is in charge until I get back.”

“What, why?!” Hilda cried out.

“I’ll know if you give her trouble.”

Lysithea raised her chin a bit with a smile, proud of her newly appointed responsibility as Byriel followed the guard back through the monastery and towards the Captain’s Quarters. Jeralt was sitting at his desk, cleaning off one of his swords when Byriel entered the room.

“Hey,” Jeralt looked up at Byriel, “Looks like I managed to grab you before you left.”

Byriel nodded.

“You seem well. Are you adjusting to life at the monastery?”

“I think so.”

Jeralt looked a little surprised, “Oh yeah? I didn’t expect that answer. No one is giving you any trouble, I hope?”

Byriel made a face, “Uh… no?”

“That student Claude isn’t giving you any trouble?”

The young professor narrowed his brows, “Why would he be causing trouble…?” 

Jeralt looked stern, “Just making sure, By.”

Byriel pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers in frustration. Some of the greatest questions in life for Byriel were why he had those connected dreams with Sothis, how to create a flaming sword, and most prominently; why was it that Jeralt felt the need to be annoyingly overprotective at the worst of times. He didn’t seem to care if, on the very rare occasion, Byleth was interested in a boy, but became incredibly concerned when the same was for the boy twin of the pair. Not that he had anything against Byriel liking boys, he seemed fairly accepting to it, but he reserved that overprotective nature for Byriel exclusively it seemed.

Byriel wasn’t even interested in Claude. Or at least that was what he was telling himself.

“Claude is fine. Everything is fine, and I can handle a few students.”

Jeralt sighed, “Look, when we were mercenaries, I handled everything. Outside of battle, you and Byleth didn’t have much contact with people. I thought the two of you being thrown into a swarm of noble brats to teach would be a bit much for you.”

_ Too much for both of us, or too much for me? _

“I like teaching,” Byriel stated, “And I like all the students. I’m doing fine, you have nothing to be freaked out over.”

“Alright then,” Jeralt crossed his arms, not convinced, “I was just concerned, that’s all.”

Byriel huffed in slight annoyance, “Look, can we talk later? We’re about to leave for Zanado.”

“Right, I heard about those bandits. Your first assignment is to take them out, right?”

He nodded, “We should really head out and deal with them, dad.”

Jeralt gave him a look but then nodded in understanding. The tension between them was thick and heavy, he could’ve sworn it could be cut through with a blade. But once Jeralt had nodded at him, Byriel quickly left the room and quickly went to go find Byleth back in the hall. She gave him a look of concern, her ocean-blue eyes wavering warily.

“What did he want?”

Byriel shook his head, “It’s not a big deal, By. He just wanted to see if I was adjusting or something. Anyway, we have things to do.”

His twin sister blinked, and then nodded, following behind him to their students.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

Imperial Year 1174

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ He had gone out to avoid his father. _

_ Leonie ran beside him on a raised path of the forest, faster than he was despite being a bit younger than him, or being around the same age as him. He didn’t quite know, as he had never known his age and Jeralt hadn’t kept track of how old he and his twin sister were. Byleth had stayed behind, following their father around so she could learn how to use a blade. It was a rare day where Leonie was willing to play with him in the woods, despite adoring Jeralt to the point of following him around like a puppy. _

_ She called out to him to catch up, picking up speed as she weaved around tree roots and low hanging branches, their long barked fingers reaching out to grab onto clothing and snag them, threatening to catch them off balance and have them tumble down the raised path of the forest into a steep incline to lower ground. He didn’t mind, however, most of his clothes were ripped and in bad condition from being a mercenary and constantly playing with embers and flames when he manipulated the magic that pulsed around him. He wasn’t as athletically skilled as Leonie or Byleth, but that didn’t mean he was slow in any regard. _

_ Leonie called out to him, grinning. Byriel sped up once again but hadn’t been paying much attention to the ground below him. His foot caught in a tree root, almost twisting his ankle and making him lose his balance. He tilted to the side violently, suddenly slamming down to the ground and tumbling down at a break-neck speed. He only recalled Leonie’s scream and then his head hit a rock on the hill with a sickening _ ** _crack_ ** _ . _

_ Then the world went black. _


	15. Chapter 14: The Red Canyon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eldritch Gremlin: When you upload the chapter twenty minutes before it's due--
> 
> HappyBirddi: SCREEEEEEEE

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Fourteen ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ The Red Canyon ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byleth & Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂  ⋅ ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Byriel and Byleth were dreaming again. That vision of two armies clashing their blades, magic sailing overhead like falling stars and soldiers falling dead all around them _ .

It ended, all the same, that woman with pale seafoam-colored locks winning and asking that same haunting question.

** _“Do you remember the Red Canyon?”_ **

Then the images faded away like mist, and the two were once again standing before that dark tomb. Sothis waiting for them both upon her cold and lonely throne.

“Oh my, it’s been a while since we’ve spoken like this.”

The twins stepped forward, looking at one another unsurprised. They were used to this dream showing up on occasion, but the feeling of amazement and confusion never lessened as the years went by.

“Why are we here?” Byleth asked first.

Sothis let out a yawn, “Hm, I wonder that myself. Why  _ are _ you here?”

Byriel shrugged, “We know as much as you do.”

The ageless girl huffed in slight annoyance, “How troublesome.”

Byleth pressed her lips together, looking a bit worrisome, “I don’t understand… we dream of this same place, the same war and we can talk to you and each other. How is any of this possible? What does any of it mean?”

Sothis frowned, “Unfortunately, I have no answers to any of your questions.”

Byriel sighed, his expression slightly frustrated. But he hadn’t expected answers, they hadn’t gotten answers for as long as they knew the mysterious Sothis. It was unlikely she would suddenly remember everything and have an explanation for every single question they could come up with.

“Dwelling on such questions will get us nowhere,” Sothis leaned forward a bit, getting a better look at the twins, “Especially not when you have more important things to be focused on.”

“Right…” Byleth hung her head, remembering what was to come at sunrise.

Sothis looked grim, “You are bringing children into battle, is it?”

“Not by choice.”

Byleth clenched her fists tightly, the fear apparent on her face. A rare occurrence that made her brother just as equally worried. This was no mock battle, and they were not faceless soldiers. They were students that the twins were given the responsibility of protecting and guiding to becoming stronger. Their father was right, they wouldn’t be able to sleep well at night if they lost one of their students, regardless of what house they belonged to.

He had talked to Seteth before departing. The man had given him a look of shock, and then sadness. Perhaps he had known the implications of losing a student there, but the somber look in his deep green eyes implicated something more. The only thing Seteth spoke of it was a bit of simple good luck and a warning to be safe. Even Flayn, who had briefly met on the way out, seemed wary at the mention of Zanado.

Byriel truly wondered if the Red Canyon was a place of tragedy, and if it was he hoped this trip wouldn’t result in more misfortune.

The girl that sat upon the lonely throne looked sympathetic, “I am not certain I will be able to sleep soundly after beholding something like this.”

Sothis went quiet, pressing her lips together in thought. Something, oddly enough, that reminded Byriel of a gesture his other half would do when she thought deeply. But only for a moment, as the girl rose to her feet.

“Very well. I shall allow both of you to turn back the hands of time.”

The twins looked at each other, wondering if they had just heard Sothis correctly. Then they looked back to the girl, and Byriel spoke up, “What do you mean by that?”

“I have done it before, once. During your little blunder with those bandits the first time you met those nobles,” Sothis gave them a look, annoyed at her having to repeat the words, “I was able to turn back the hands of time for a moment, long enough for you to correct your errors.”

“We didn’t forget that,” Byleth made a face, “But are you saying you can give us that power?”

Sothis gave a slight smirk, “I believe I can.”

Byriel glared a bit, “You ‘believe’ you can? That’s not a good enough answer.”

The girl glared at them, “Do not be cross with me. This is just as confusing to me as it is to you. But do not doubt what I do remember; my memory may be foggy, but it is  _ never _ wrong.”

Byleth stepped forward, “But you’re serious, right? You can give us that same power?”

Sothis raised her chin, “I can. That much I’m sure of. I will allow both of you to turn back the hands of time, however, it has its limits. Will you be able to accept that?”

“Yes.” Byleth nodded.

“Without question!” Byriel practically shouted the words.

After a long moment, Sothis rose to her feet. That same familiar shape manifested before her. Golden light bent into complex symbols and circles, and in the center burned that familiar, and yet completely alien, flame-like design.

The same circle formed around the two’s feet; complex symbols and shapes that pulsed beneath them, a feeling enveloping the both of them that felt like being thrown into a pool of freezing water after being enveloped in a veil of warm heat. And faintly, around the both of them, there was a faint sound of a rhythmic, constant tapping sound.

_ Tic. Tic. Tic. _

“Now, listen carefully,” Sothis looked deathly serious, “I have given you both the ability to turn back the hands of time. But it is not unlimited; you both only have the ability to turn back one minute.”

“Only one minute?” Byriel asked.

“One minute for you both. After all, it can often only take one minute to shift the tides of battle in your favor. You may use that minute sparingly or all at once, but you only have one minute and once that minute is up, you will not be able to do it again. Not until the moment dawn rises once again.”

“Basically, we have one minute to make things better if we mess up…” Byleth looked to her brother, her expression grim once again.

Byriel straightened, “One minute could make all the difference.”

“Glad to see you understand, I do hate to repeat myself,” Sothis smirked a little, “Moving on; when one of you rewinds the hands of time, the other twin will always know that something has changed.”

“Why’s that?” Byriel asked.

“You share the same ability, so it only makes sense for the other to retain the same memories of what happened before the other rewound time.”

The male twin looked to his other half, “So you’ll know if I change something, and vice versa.”

Byleth nodded, “That’s only fair.”

Byriel gave his sister a slight smirk, “So don’t think I won’t notice if you change something, blockhead.”

His sister gave him a smack in the arm, “Then I’ll just have to sneak things behind your back while you’re asleep, blockhead.”

“One last thing,” The green-haired girl spoke up, her voice bouncing off the walls of their shared tomb and silencing any more banter, “And this is the most important thing you must know; when one of you change something, it cannot be undone by you or the other.”

The twins looked confused, and Sothis sighed in annoyance at having to repeat her words.

“What that means,” Sothis said, slower, “Is that when once you undo something, the other can’t go back to redo it. Fate is not easily changed, and some things are simply meant to be. No matter how much you try to change it, and no matter who tries to change it.”

“So basically…” Byriel squinted a bit, trying to make sense of the somewhat confusing words, “Once we go back to change something, that’s it. We can’t go back to that moment again at all to change anything else.”

“If that is how you wish to interpret it, then yes,” Sothis warned, “But know this; there may come a time where you both may have different choices of what should be ‘fixed’. You may have to decide whose choice is more important and be content with what is to come, or decide to leave things as they were originally meant to play out.”

The two looked at one another, the weight of what that meant settling around them. They got along fine, but there were things that they differed in. The twins would gladly give up whatever they could to help the other, but if there came a situation dire enough, one where it came down to deciding who was right or wrong, would they be able to give up one decision to compromise for the other? For something that may lead to an even more terrible scenario if they chose wrong? For something that would benefit one twin, but utterly destroy the other?

Which was worse, they wondered; to change a bad outcome only for it to lead to something worse for one or both of them, or to let fate take its destructive course?

“Ultimately, those decisions rest upon you both.” Sothis took her seat once again, yawning and looking exhausted once more, “It is almost time. I wish you both the best of luck, and to be careful… ”

The symbols and golden light fading away, but that same tapping sound still remained.

_ Tic. Tic. Tic. _

Byriel turned to his twin, “Then… let’s promise that we make these decisions together, Byleth.”

His sister looked troubled, “Is it even possible to keep that kind of promise? It’s not just a magic spell, it’s changing time itself.”

He stretched out his hand to his sister, “Maybe not forever. But we both share this power and the consequences it’ll bring. So let’s promise that if we ever have to make that kind of difficult decision, we make it together. We make it as Byriel and Byleth. It’s probably the only thing we can really do. I’d never go behind your back to do something so drastic.”

Byleth didn’t hesitate too long before taking her brother’s hand, “I know you wouldn’t. You’re my brother, Byriel. I trust you, and I hope you trust me just as much.”

Her brother squeezed her fingers tightly, “Always.”

They shared one last determined look as the tomb became dark once again, the sensations and scents disappearing, leaving only that distant tapping sound to echo in the darkness.

_ Tic. Tic. Tic. _

Byleth was the first to wake up, used to getting up early to a point of it coming automatically. She sat up, feeling stiff in her bedroll and looking around the tent that the Blue Lions had set up and the sleeping female students around her. Byriel, surprisingly, woke up at the same time in his own tent. He felt especially groggy but didn’t have any motivation to try and get any more sleep.

Even though they were not in the same tent, nor did they have the time to speak before everyone was up early and packing up to move towards the Red Canyon, they both perfectly remembered and understood the power that had been given to them, and the weight it carried on their combined shoulders.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

_ It took a little more than half a day’s trek for the three houses to make it to the edge of Zanado, the Red Canyon. _ The scent of pine trees mixed with the sharp taste of stone on the wind that blew through the narrow cliff walls, making a sound more reminiscent of someone howling in pain than anything else.

Despite it being called the ‘Red Canyon’, the stones weren’t in any shape red. Nothing as far as they could see was even remotely colored crimson, only the natural colors of the earth stretched out before them. The natural colors, and the occasional collapsed ruins of something that was once made from stone, and whose foundations had passed the tests of times but the rest of what it used to be was long gone. Crumbled beneath their feet into dust and shards of rock, no longer standing as tall as it might’ve been long ago.

As the twins stood on the edge of the canyon, their students surrounding them, they both couldn’t help but notice how cold the air felt here. Despite the sun overhead telling them it was the afternoon, the wind felt almost icy here. Looking out over the landscape and all it’s collapsed ruins, the two weren’t surprised or even really afraid. They felt something but could put no name to what that emotion was.

Dimitri stepped next to Byleth, “The Red Canyon… this is the first time I have ever been here. It’s like walking through a ruin.”

At the same time, Claude gave a look to Byriel, “Huh, doesn’t look red to me.”

While the two classes looked over the canyon, a knight in armor approached the heads of the Blue Lions and Golden Deer class and gave a short bow, “We have just received word; the Black Eagle class has made it to their positions on the other side of the canyon. The last of the thieves had been cornered now. The rest is up to you.”

Ingrid, who stood a little closer to Byleth, gave a nod, “Just as planned. It’s unlikely they’ll get away easily.”

Byriel looked to the knight, “Is Edelgard going to be alright on her own?”

Claude made a sound that was between a laugh and a wheeze, “Teach, you’ve  _ seen  _ Edelgard fight, right?”

Dimitri looked troubled, “Still… the Black Eagles are off on their own.”

“Trust me, she’ll be fine.” Claude fiddled with one of his arrows, “And with all three of us here, along with Jeralt, those thieves aren’t going anywhere.”

Ashe stepped forward, stringing his own bow, “I hope so, we certainly can’t allow those underhanded thieves to get away. Let’s work together and do our best to take them down.”

Leonie scanned the canyon, squinting her eyes against the dusty wind, “I think I see a few down there, as well as a bridge.”

“How many?” Byriel asked.

“Maybe two…?”

“There’s probably more deeper in,” Lysithea stretched out her arms, looking eager to get into the fight, “Seteth said there were only a few bandits.”

Byleth squinted against the wind, spotting a bridge ahead as well as two bandits waiting for any sudden attacks. But from their position, they were unseen by anyone and had an element of surprise.

“That bridge might be a problem,” Byleth spoke up.

“It’s the only way across,” Byriel nodded, “But if we can get past that, one of us can circle around the left there,” He pointed out; gesturing that there were two routes, one that went straight ahead and another that diverged to the left and around the ruins and out of clear sight.

“That makes sense, but what if there are more bandits waiting over there?” Byleth asked, “There also might be a few archers hiding out, one class could get overwhelmed.”

“I think the odds are unlikely,” Byriel stated, “There shouldn’t be a lot of them, so our numbers should win out. But you have a point, we will just have to be careful. I don’t want to split the classes up, not with this much open space. It’s better if we stick together and meet on the other side.”

Byleth stared down at the bandits, and felt a sense of familiarity, “Hey… don’t those guys look kind of familiar?”

Byriel looked, as well as Claude and Dimitri. The four of them stared down at the two thieves, their memories searching for anything to put an identity on the two. However, none of them came up with a good enough answer.

“It doesn’t matter,” Claude glanced to the professors, “It doesn’t change that we have to fight them, and I’d rather not know their names.”

Dimitri looked suddenly depressed, “That’s-”

“It matters not who we’re up against, they will not harm His Highness.” Dedue suddenly spoke up, his voice menacing.

Everyone in the Golden Deer class seemed to step a bit away from the intimidating man, but they quickly overcame that sense of fear and went back to focusing.

“We’ll have to kill them, right?” Ignatz asked, his voice timid and his stance reserved.

Byriel felt a pang of sympathy, “That’s the order.”

The merchant boy looked uneasy, even slightly green at the thought. However, not everyone was as hesitant.

“Hmph, we’re just fighting common thieves, right?” Felix spoke up, bluntly, “I don’t expect much of a challenge.”

Leonie looked annoyed, “Are you seriously worried more about whether this will be challenging or not?! They still have weapons!”

Felix scowled, “Quit blowing things out of proportion. They’re just bandits, and likely have no real experience in formal combat. It means that this will be a short fight.”

“Easy for you to say,” Hilda pouted, “Not all of us are as good with a sword as you are, or have killed before!”

Felix crossed his arms, “Killing is necessary here, whether you like it or not. And you can either stand around complaining about it and get yourself killed, or shut up and fight. It’s our lives or theirs, there’s no room for mercy.”

A lot of the students, even Ashe, Dimitri and Mercedes, looked uneasy at Felix’s brutal honesty. Still, both twins knew that it was easier said than done.

Sylvain smiled, and in an attempt to lighten the mood placed an arm around Felix’s shoulder, saying, “Aren’t you a spoilsport, Fe. I’m actually quite excited myself. Who knows, there may even be some cute lady thieves!”

Everyone gave the ginger a somewhat irritated look. Even members of the Golden Deer were well-aware of Sylvain’s infamous skirt-chasing reputation.

“Now is not the time, Sylvain!” Ingrid scolded him.

An unfamiliar glint of fury flashed across Felix’s face and he elbowed Sylvain hard in the gut. Byriel could’ve sworn the expression was a jealous one, as he had never seen such a sour expression on the swordsman’s face unless it came to Sylvain and flirting with women.

The noble let out a grunt, and chuckled, “Oh come on, don’t be like that.”

“Can you at least pretend to take this seriously?” Ingrid frowned.

“I’ll take it seriously!” Raphael slammed his fists together, excitedly, “I’ll be the best I can possibly be, and protect everyone!”

“J-Just make sure to be careful, okay?” Ignatz warned.

Annette smiled sweetly, “Don’t be afraid, Ignatz. A real battle is a great opportunity for us to see how far we’ve come.”

“True,” Mercedes folded her hands together, “The mock battle was just practice, so we’ll be fine so long as we stay on course.”

“And as long as Claude isn’t the one making the strategy…” Lorenz added, somewhat bitterly.

Claude only smiled, “Aw, don’t be like that, Lorenz! We won the mock battle, so this should be easy!”

The helmet-haired noble scowled, “Hearing you say that makes me fret that Marianne will have a lot to do because of you.”

“Hm? O-Oh…” Marianne shrank in her stance, “S-Sorry…”

Lorenz looked to the timid girl, “Y-You don’t need to apologize for anything, Marianne.” He reassured her quickly, concern apparent on his face.

From the canyon below there was a commotion as several bandits were seemingly running from the far end of Zanado. Sufficiently pushed back by Edelgard and the rest of the Black Eagles.

“That’s our cue,” Byriel turned to his class, “Let’s get closer and start crossing that bridge.”

“Lead the way, Teach!” Claude gave him a grin, and the twin began to scale down the slope of the canyon, the rest of the Golden Deer following behind.

Byleth did the same, nodding at her own class, “Let’s do this, alright?”

The Blue Lions, for the most part, let out a verbal agreement and began to follow the Golden Deer class. However, Dimitri lingered behind just a bit as Byleth pressed her mouth into a thin line of worry.

“So much excitement…”

“Perhaps we are a bit overly excited,” Dimitri agreed, “But remember that we have the knights on our side. All should be well.”

“I know that…” Byleth was relieved that the knights would be there if things went wrong, but the fact that the possibility was still there was loudly apparent.

“Ah, and speaking of the knights!” The prince looked to Byleth, “I heard that Jeralt is once again one of the Knights of Seiros.”

She nodded, “He is. He’s leading the groups closer to Edelgard, making sure none of the bandits escape.”

Dimitri smiled, “Perhaps we’ll have the good fortune of seeing you two fight side by side.”

Byleth had to suppress a small laugh at the prince’s sudden excitement at the idea. She was even more surprised to hear it come from the prince and not Leonie for once, “We’ve fought together many times before… if anything, he’d just be yelling at me to stay focused and to watch Byriel.”

The prince looked a bit disappointed, but he straightened, “Oh, of course. I apologize for letting my childish whims get the better of me.”

“N-No, you don’t have to apologize,” she quickly reassured him, “He’s a knight again, so there’ll probably be plenty more times for us to fight alongside him.”

“I hope so, his skills are praised to be legendary.”

Byleth shrugged a little, “That’s what I hear from Alois and the other knights.”

“Do you not agree?” The prince asked.

“It’s not that,” Byleth explained, scanning over the landscape for any threats, “It’s just funny to hear everyone praise him so much. It’s almost like they’re talking about a completely different person while I just know him as my dad.”

Dimitri smiled a little and chuckled, “Your family seems very close. In all honesty, I’m a bit jealous; my parents are no longer around.”

She looked back to the prince, “What do you mean?”

Immediately, Byleth regretted asking the question; the prince’s face fell, and he looked pained. As if the question had physically hurt him.

“They… they died. Both of them. I’m all that remains of them now.” He said the words quietly, the wind almost drowning them out completely.

Byleth felt a pang of guilt in her chest, “Oh… I’m so sorry, that was insensitive of me.”

He straightened, “N-No, it’s fine. Anyhow, I should be apologizing to you for boring you with such things.”

_ How does any of this warrant apologizes? _

“I’d say it’s nearly time for us to proceed forward. Eh, professor?” He smiled again, as if the conversation hadn’t touched on such a dark topic.

“R-Right…” Byleth decided it was probably best not to press for more information. At least, not now.

With that, the two descended down the slope and joined the rest of the class. Byriel gave them a quick glance as they got closer, “You ready?”

They both nodded.

“Alright, then what I’m thinking is that we have someone shoot the two bandits first and then crowd them.”

Byleth nodded in agreement

The male twin looked to Claude and Ignatz, “Can you two get one of those bandits from here?”

“I-I’ll try.” Ignatz clenched his bow tightly.

Claude gave the young professor a grin, “For you, Teach? I’d do it blindfolded.”

Byriel squinted, “You’re good but I don’t think you’re  _ that _ good. What’s the point in being blindfolded?”

The noble gave him a wink and began to ready an arrow. At the same time, Byleth gestured for Ashe to get closer and follow suit. The three archers took their stances, aiming their arrows for a fatal shot, all while Ingrid and Hilda stood close to the professors.

“Professor, I told you not to put me on the battlefield!” Hilda whined a bit.

“Just get him off balance, okay?” Byriel instructed.

“I’m sorry… I don’t have a choice.” Ignatz apologized.

And with that, there was a  _ twang _ . The arrows sailed through the air, finding their marks. One bandit cried out and fell to the ground, an arrow sticking out of his knee and another in his chest, while the other stumbled. That one had an arrow lodged in his throat, and he tripped over his own feet.

Ingrid and Hilda rushed forward from their hiding spot, catching the enemies off guard. Hilda swung a deadly blow into one of the bandit’s guts, causing the man to scream out in pain. He fell to the ground, a puddle of crimson forming around the fallen bandit’s body. As for Ingrid, she was fast enough to avoid the remaining thief’s swing and landed a fatal jab to the man’s chest. He fell backward, hitting his back against the edge of the bridge and collapsing.

The two students looked at each other surprised. Hilda laughed, surprised, “I was planning to just sit back and watch. But hey! I got one!”

Ingrid held her weapon tightly, looking determined, “We can’t relax here. We need to prepare for our next battle!”

With the two obstacles out of the way, the groups had no trouble making it across the bridge. The archers looked less than eager, Ashe and Ignatz especially.

Byleth walked closer to their sides, letting everyone else walk ahead a bit more, “I know it’s hard… but you have to close your hearts to it. The enemy won’t hesitate with you because you’re students, so you have to strike first.”

“I-I know,” Ashe fidgeted a bit, staring at the arrow-riddled corpses that slowly bled out, “If I’d hesitated, that… that would’ve been us.”

Ignatz sighed and looked to her, “Professor… does it get easier?”

She shook her head, “I wish I could say it does.”

The two students looked grim.

“You have to close your hearts to them,” Byleth said in a steady voice, “These people won’t hold back or show you mercy just because you’re students. Don’t forget that they  _ are  _ people, but also don’t forget that what matters in the end is protecting the people we love.”

Her back was turned, so Byleth didn’t even realize that her brother had stopped to listen for a moment. His face was stoic, as usual, but his hands trembled a little bit at her echoing her father’s words. Though they were her own interpretation of Jeralt’s words, and far less cold than the legendary knight had put it all those years ago.

His sister ushered the two students to walk after the groups and followed behind. As the Blue Lions and Golden Deer reached the other side of the bridge, the professors and students looked over the rough terrain; more ruins that had decayed into dust over the centuries and rocky earth that crumbled into dust at their boots.

However, staring at the remains of the past, both twins got that same feeling mixed with several other emotions with no names to put them to.

Byriel could hear someone shouting not too far off in the distance. Worse, it came from both sides, and looking to the left the young professor could see bandits charging.

“Looks like we’ve been spotted,” Claude readied another arrow, “We’ll go straight while you go west.”

“Be careful, Claude,” Dimitri warned, readying his lance.

Claude rolled his eyes a bit, “We got this, don’t worry so much about that.”

And with that, both classes split off and charged into the fray. The Blue Lions circling around while the Golden Deer charged forward.

Immediately Byriel spotted enemies running up to them, roughly about four. The young professor looked to Lysithea, “Rough them up a bit!”

The smaller girl raised her hands above her head, and the air shifted. Wisely, the students that stood closest to Lysithea backed up a bit. The air suddenly felt heavy and thick, enough where Byriel thought he was about to go into a coughing fit. Several circles flashed briefly beneath Lysithea’s feet, and a dark, noxious mist formed around the girl’s body. 

With a flick of her wrist, a bubbling orb of violet fog shot across the field and hit one bandit squarely in the chest. He cried out, coughing and choking, backing into another enemy and affecting him too with that same dark energy. 

As for the ones left, Leonie and Raphael jumped into battle. The blonde boy charged, catching one bandit in the shoulder and in the leg with two loud  _ twacks _ . The sound of his metal gauntlets against skin made Byriel cringe on the inside, but nowhere near as much as Leonie driving her lance into the last bandit’s hip. The enemy going against Raphael wasn’t stunned for long and landed a painful punch to the student’s chest and face.

Byriel felt a flash of panic at the sound of Raphael letting out a grunt of pain and the cries of fear from the other students, and the sensation of cold rain on his skin began to creep up. 

_ Could I prevent that from happening? _

However, before he could even think about pulling the hands of fate back, an arrow shot through the air and hit the bandit in the shoulder. He wailed in pain, stumbling back and giving Raphael another chance to land one more blow, right into the thief’s ribs with a sickening  _ crack _ . Byriel turned, seeing Ignatz standing not too far off and shaking. The bowstring between his fingers quivered just as much.

The bandit fell to the earth, face first, and Leonie’s target soon fell to the ground all the same from the huntress stabbing the ruffian right beneath his throat. Still, he didn’t go down without landing a nasty hit to the hunter’s arm.

The two bandits that Lysithea had stunned were starting to recover, both angry at the attack and charging for the girl. Byriel immediately ran in front of the girl, raising his sword and blocking one attack. However, he wasn’t able to stop the other from attacking and cutting into Byriel’s arm. Immediately, the young professor felt blood start to stain his sleeve, but the pain wasn’t as severe as it could’ve been. Still, it was enough for him to let out a wince.

“Dastard!” Claude ran across the field, drawing his bow and firing an arrow too fast for the mercenary to see. The offender caught the attack in his back, letting out a grunt briefly before Hilda ran up and slammed her axe right into the man’s leg.

The bandit that tried to attack Byriel swung his blade at him again, but the former mercenary was still fast and able to get out of the way of any potentially deadly injuries. And instead of raising his blade, like his sister might, Byriel pressed his middle and index fingers against his thumb, feeling heat build-up in his hand.

“Allow me to demonstrate what happens when you lay a hand on my students.”

His fingers burned as the flame began lick his palm and fingers, not leaving any burns behind but continued to swell up in his hand with impeccable speed. The flames crawled up the bandit’s body, eating at his flesh and clothes, the attacker letting out a horrible scream. As he burned, Byriel withdrew his own sword and finished the bandit off by a harsh blow to his chest, raking the blade upwards and into the attacker’s throat. There was a terrible choking sound, along with the hideous scent of burnt flesh.

“You alright, Byriel?” Claude ran up to his side, his expression serious but still lined with concern.

“Yeah…” Byriel frowned, “I shouldn’t have underestimated those guys.”

The two bandits that Lysithea had hit were starting to pull themselves together, cursing and spitting.

“You little, I’ll kill you!” One lunged for Claude, not even Leonie trying to get in the way was enough to stop the furious bandit.

Instinctively, Byriel stepped in front of Claude, but the attacker was suddenly surrounded in a pale, gold light that soaked his skin and caused him to suddenly collapse. Before the other one could charge, Leonie regained her senses and swiped at the bandit, causing another wound and giving Lorenz time to stab his lance into the bandit’s stomach.

A silence fell over the class, realizing just how capable they all were.

“Please forgive me, Goddess… and save their souls…” 

Byriel turned, seeing Marianne surrounded by that same golden light. It almost looked like tiny fireflies surrounding the quiet girl, though it quickly faded away. Much like fireflies tended to do.

“Is everyone okay?” Byriel asked everyone.

Leonie rolled her shoulder, “Just a few scratches.”

He frowned, “You got hit pretty hard.”

“What about you? You’re bleeding!”

Before he could talk, Byriel felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. The touch was a little cold, but less icy and more soothing. Like cold water on a burn that cut the pain in half, and left not even a scar behind from where the bandit had hit him.

“S-Sorry…” Marianne backed away from him, hanging her head a bit, “I was worried you got seriously hurt…”

Byriel turned to the girl, eyes wide with amazement, “How’d you do that?”

Marianne looked confused, “E-Excuse me?”

“My healing spells are nowhere near that good, how’d you do it?”

She shuffled a bit, “J-Just practice, I guess…”

Byriel gave a hint of a smile, “Well, I hope I can count on you for the future.”

She stammered, “I-I-”

Raphael walked up to them, a wide smile across his face as he spoke, “This was my first real fight. I guess I’m pretty strong!”

Ignatz also stepped closer, “Are you okay, Raphael?”

“Yeah! Thanks for that shot back there!” He smiled at Ignatz.

“I-I…” The boy fidgeted a bit with his glasses, “I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Raphael nodded, “Glad I can have you on my side then! We’re all pretty strong!”

“This was a precious opportunity to test our strength,” Lysithea looked to the fallen bandits, frowning and looking glum, “I won’t make waste of your deaths.”

“Hey, don’t be too upset,” Hilda swung her axe over her shoulder and looked to Lysithea, “They started it.”

Byriel walked up to Leonie, “Your turn to be healed.”

The hunter rolled her eyes a bit and got closer, letting the former mercenary hold her arm and cast a healing spell. At the same time, he cast the same healing spell and watched as her bruises were erased away.

Leonie snickered a bit, “Got tired of Byleth and I running into the fight and bandaging our wounds?”

“Yes.” He gave one stern nod to the girl, “You need to be more careful.”

“This is what I’ve trained for!” Leonie glared at him a bit, “And it’s what Jeralt trained you and your sister for!”

Lorenz looked over at them, his spear not as bloody as it could be, “It is a noble’s duty to guard the welfare of the people as well.”

“You don’t have to be a noble to protect someone,” Byriel pulled his hands away from Leonie’s arm, “Better?”

She gingerly tested her arm and then nodded.

Claude stepped closer to Byriel, “We were taken by surprise last time, but I guess this is what we can expect when battling thieves.”

“They still pack a punch…” Byriel frowned and looked to the rest of the students, “Alright, let’s not keep the Blue Lions waiting.”

Everyone nodded and began to move forward, over the next bridge and, hopefully, to the same spot where the Blue Lions were.

Though their time wasn’t as easy, as the moment Byleth and the other students began to head west, they were immediately intercepted by several bandits. Though they had a much easier time taking down the threats.

The first bandit let out a roar, charging for Felix first. The swordsman, agile as a cat, was easily able to avoid the thief swinging his axe at him and land a blow to his chest in retaliation. He didn’t so much as flinch, though presumably most of the Blue Lions had some form of battle experience.

Felix scoffed a bit, “Finished already? I was hoping for more of a challenge.”

And, as if the goddess had heard him, a second bandit attempted to close in on the swordsman, but their efforts were for nothing as Sylvain joined the smaller student’s side and blocked one incoming attack. Winning a jab to the shoulder for his efforts. A third tried to join the fight, only for Byleth to lunge for the thief and slash him in the leg, knocking him down.

Sylvain, mustering what strength he could, shoved the attacker back enough to give space to strike the bandit in the shoulder, and to allow Felix enough time to run in and finish the job with a deadly, and gruesome attack, to the thief’s throat. 

“Don’t hate us, we had to.” Sylvain muttered, his expression noticeably angry.

As Byleth’s own enemy began to get up, she got out of the way enough for Annette, who was standing just a few feet behind, to build up a spell. The wind began to pick up, forming a bright azure bolt and colliding with the bandit's body. The blast caused several bleeding cuts to appear all over the attacker’s skin and he fell to the ground, blood spilling into the dirt.

“I did it! See? I’m a great fighter!” Annette cheered.

“Good job,” Byleth nodded in approval, then focused on Sylvain, “What about you two?”

Sylvain looked to Felix briefly, “Yeah, we’re good.”

The swordsman immediately noticed the crimson stain over his friend’s shoulder, “You’re hurt.”

“Eh, just a scratch.”

“Bullshit.”

Before there could be any more arguing, Byleth looked back to Mercedes, “Can you…?”

She smiled and nodded, approaching the two and silencing whatever argument was about to form.

Sylvain smiled at her, “Ah, I’m feeling better already being in your lovely presence, Mercedes.”

The girl tilted her head a little bit and placed a hand on his arm, “You ought to be more careful, Sylvain. Promise me that you’ll be more aware of your surroundings, alright?”

“Anything for you,” Sylvain gave her a wink.

Felix glared at his friend and hit him on his uninjured arm, “Oh, so you listen to Mercedes when she tells you to stop doing reckless shit but not me?”

Sylvain looked to the swordsman, “You’re not jealous, are you?”

“Hell no!” Felix snapped.

Mercedes frowned a little at the Gautier noble, “You really should listen to Felix, Sylvain. He’s just worried about you.”

Felix made a face and then quickly left Sylvain’s side, still steaming over what he had said to Mercedes. Byleth watched him leave, then looked back to see that Sylvain looked a bit more pained as he pulled away from Mercedes and began to run after him.

“What with them…?” Byleth wondered.

Annette walked to her side, “Oh, they’re pretty close I guess. Maybe they’ve just been friends for a long time.”

Mercedes laughed lightly, “It’s nice that they care about each other that much.”

Thankfully neither nobles were close enough to hear the statements, otherwise Byleth assumed neither would appreciate the words. 

Byleth scanned the area, noticing that Ashe was lagging a bit further behind. She called out to him, “Come on, we can’t stand around for too long.”

Ashe ran up to the professor, “S-Sorry about that, professor. Uh, here!”

He held out a worn leather pouch to the professor. She blinked, surprised, and took the bag from Ashe, surprised at how heavy it felt in her hands.

“What’s this?”

“I overheard one of those bandits talking about treasure and noticed that chest over there,” He pointed in the direction, guiding everyone’s eyes towards the outline of an open chest a few yards away, hidden barely by some large rocks and ruins, “I thought maybe something useful could’ve been in there, so I picked the lock and got it open.”

Byleth was surprised, “You can pick locks, Ashe?”

He smiled, bashful almost, “O-Oh, sorry, I never told you about that. It’s just something I picked up a long time ago.”

“That’s amazing!” Annette gaped, “Can you teach me how to do that?”

“N-Now hold on,” Byleth stammered, “What are you going to use that kind of information for?”

“Me too!” Mercedes smiled.

The professor sighed and checked the bag, seeing that there were several gold coins in the pouch. 

“Wow, look at all that!” Annette gasped.

Byleth gave a ghost of a smile to the boy, “That’s a good skill to have, Ashe. I’ll hold onto this for now, but we can divide it up later.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, professor,” Mercedes shook her head.

“Yeah, you can keep it if you want,” Annette added.

She made a face, “I don’t need all of it, just enough for some weapons for class. It’s only fair to split it up with the rest of the class. Especially since Ashe found it first.”

Ashe laughed a bit, “You don’t have to give me anything, Professor. I wanted you to have it first.”

Byleth felt the need to keep this boy safe from any and all harm again, and slipped the heavy bag into her own pack, “Alright, let’s catch up with everyone.”

“Right!”

The four continued on after the group, running up to see Dimitri fight two more bandits alongside Dedue and Ingrid. Sure enough, Dedue was just as terrifying an enemy on an actual battlefield as he was during the mock battle, and it only took one fatal swing from his axe to end the other bandit’s life. Ingrid, quick on her feet, was able to wound another enemy and get out fast enough for Dimitri to land an attack to the bandit’s back. There was a flash of light from Dimitri, and the moment his lance collided with his own opponent the man went down just as easily, much like the other bandits from Remire Village.

“Are you uninjured, Your Highness?” Dedue asked.

“I-I am…” Dimitri sighed, looking downtrodden, “I know they are just thieves… but this never gets easier for me. What about you, Dedue?”

“Still whole and sound.” He stated gruffly.

Scanning over the bodies littered around the area and dark stains of blood mixed with dirt, the air suddenly felt very cold in the canyon.

“I hope the goddess blesses them to rest in peace…” Mercedes looked saddened.

“Oh, Mercie…” Annette walked to her side, putting a hand on her shoulder for comfort. The rose-haired girl smiled sadly at her friend, appreciative of the gesture.

“Holy crap…” Ashe gaped, “H-How’d he do that?”

Byleth pressed her lips together briefly, “He’s strong…”

“He’s an animal.”

The professor looked over to see Felix not too far off, arms crossed and a grim expression on his face.

“Th-That’s kind of mean to say, isn’t it?” Annette looked at the swordsman, shocked.

Byleth looked to the three, “Go on ahead, alright?”

“Professor?” Ashe looked concerned.

“We’ll be right behind, just go on.” She urged, not wanting to give a lecture to the swordsman in front of three other students. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.

The three gave her, as well as Felix, a questioning look. But they obliged, as Byleth was still their teacher, and followed the rest of the group.

Byleth looked to Felix, eyes narrowed, “You really shouldn’t say that kind of stuff about your friends.”

Felix glowered a bit, “I know him better than almost anyone else. For years, the boar prince and I were inseparable.”

“Why do you call him that?” Byleth asked, “Isn’t that a bit harsh?”

“I’ve seen what he really is, a wild animal,” he looked away, his harsh glare burning through Dimitri, who was a few feet away, “You haven’t. I recommend you keep your guard up, you never know when he’ll show you what he truly is.”

Before she could question him further, or bother giving a retort, Felix walked after the rest of the group.

Byleth sighed, following after and joining the rest of them.

“Professor!” Dimitri smiled at her, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. Much like all the other times, he smiled, “What’s our next course of action?”

Byleth brushed off the warning and looked north, “That way. Hopefully, we’ll find Byriel.”

The Blue Lions began their trek forward, not seeing any more bandits as they came into another clearing. To the far right, the Golden Deer shortly followed and the two groups automatically met up once again.

“Any trouble getting here?” Byleth asked her brother.

“None, you?”

She shook her head, and the brother looked relieved.

“Is that all the bandits?” Claude scanned the area, “I don’t see any more.”

“Maybe the Black Eagles finished the rest of them off?” Hilda asked, almost sounding hopeful.

Ingrid looked around the vacant ruins, eyes narrowed, “I don’t see anyone…”

“Don’t let your guard down,” Felix snapped, “There’s no way that they’re all dead.”

Byleth and Byriel scanned the area, eyes and ears searching for anything out of place. The wind echoed through the canyon, the sound resembling a roaring animal. But… other than that, everything was silent.

Immediately, Byleth raised her sword. Her brother did the same, standing tense and glaring at the ruins and trees.

“What are you doing-?” Dimitri asked.

Out of the corner of Byriel’s eye, he saw movement at another collapsed ruin. One that looked almost like an altar of some kind. He turned, and within seconds there were flames building up in his hand. He threw the ball of fire ahead of him, the flames bursting as they made contact with his target. They exploded painfully with a loud sound, the smell of burning hair almost immediate in the area.

There was a scream, and from the site ran out another bandit. However, this one was a much more familiar sight as he glared at the groups. Though his expression morphed into horror, as he also recognized the two professors and two of the students.

“Y-You’re… it can’t be!” He cried out.

Byleth’s eyes widened, “Wait, isn’t that-?”

“That asshole bandit from Remire!” Claude cried. 

“My name is Kostas, you shitty brat!” He roared, “You’re the mercenaries from before! So what, now you’re pals with the knights?!”

Dimitri pointed his lance at Kostas, glaring, “It’s over, there’s no escaping from this!”

Kostas ground his teeth together, “I’ll kill you and your pesky brats!”

From the trees and bushes came out several more bandits, just as the twins had anticipated. However, before any attack could go down from either side, the sensation of cold rain came over Byleth as the world shattered around them. Just like before.

Byleth looked to her brother, “By, what are you doing?”

He blinked, still able to move and shocked by the sudden change, “I… I thought we could better plan for that ambush-!”

“By, it’s okay,” She looked to him, “They’re doing fine, we don’t need to change anything yet.”

He looked uneasy, “But what if something goes wrong?”

Byleth gave him a slight smile, “Then you can say you told me so. But don’t be afraid, let’s trust that they can do it.”

The brother sighed, clenching his fists tightly and looking tense, but ultimately letting go. He gave another look to his sister, “I hope you’re right.”

The world suddenly resumed, and time began to march forward once again. A flood of warmth washed over the twins everything began to move forward. Both the Golden Deer and Blue Lion students leaped into action, arrows firing across the field as well as magic, swords, and lances clashing against other weapons, skin cut and bleeding only to be quickly stitched back together by warm healing magic, everything moving fluid like water over stone.

With their combined numbers, and with the twins yelling out orders to each of their students, what Byriel had feared to be a fatal ambush slowly shifted into their favor as one bandit after another fell to the earth.

As the bandit’s numbers quickly dropped, Kostas realized just how trapped he was and tried to run further back into the canyon. However, coming from the other ruins, came the sound of running footsteps. The twins looked over just in time to see Edelgard and the rest of the Black Eagles chasing down the last of Kostas’s band of thieves.

Unsurprisingly, none of them got very far. Falling to Edelgard’s axe and Ferdinand’s lance, among other attacks mostly dealt by Caspar, Petra, and a very afraid Bernadetta.

“These ruffians are no match for a noble like me!” Ferdinand declared loudly.

“I don’t care if they’re stealing, can I go home?!” Bernadetta cried.

“People and beasts are as one,” Petra looked to the timid girl, “Calm your heart, and do not be worried about this killing.”

Caspar let out a fierce war cry, easily dispatching another bandit, “Come on, let’s get onto the next one!”

“Damn you…” Kostas growled, drawing his axe. The same axe that killed Byriel and Byleth once.

The twins lunged for Kostas, Byleth charging first and swinging her sword at him. The bandit ducked out of the way, his own axe barely missing her. Byriel watched, horrified, as his sister’s blade met against Kostas’s once, twice, again and again with no blows dealt to either side.

But then, suddenly, Byleth landed harshly on her left foot and Byriel saw her face contort in brief pain before stumbling.

“Die!” Kostas swung his axe over his head.

Byriel, panicking, threw another bolt of fire at the bandit and ran at him with all the anger of a wrathful god. The fire hit Kostas in the chest, causing him to stumble. In that moment, Byriel struck at him, their blades colliding and the sound of metal scraping against metal caused the professor’s skin to crawl.

“Out of my way!”

The bandit shoved Byriel, knocking the wind out of him and causing the brother to fall harshly to the ground, slamming the back of his head against the solid stone with a nasty, meaty  _ thunk _ .

Byleth let out a short scream of anger, jumping back to her feet, pushing through the pain and driving her sword into Kostas’s arm. He screamed, dropping his weapon and stumbling backward. Right into Edelgard who swung her own deadly axe into the bandit’s back.

Kostas fell to the ground, the axe still sticking out of his back, “I should have never listened to that idiot… what a mistake…”

He didn’t move again, nor did he try to talk. He was dead, just like that.

Immediately seeing what had happened, Leonie cried out in panic and ran to the fallen professor’s side, “By, oh saints, are you okay?!”

The professor was clutching at his head, eyes squeezed shut and gritting his teeth.

The Golden Deer house leader pulled away from the conflict, joining her concern, “Did he get stabbed?!”

“N-No, he-!”

Byriel sat up, but he was shaking and breathing rapidly and running a hand over the back of his head, searching for any injuries.

“Teach, you alright?” Claude was shocked, never having seen the professor like this.

After a moment, Byriel let out a shaking breath, “Y-Yeah…”

Byleth immediately ran to his side, grabbing her brother by the shoulders and pulling him into a rib-crushing hold, “I-I’m sorry, I can-”

“Don’t bother,” He pulled his head back, “We won, don’t go changing anything for something this small.”

His sister gave him a look, fear and pain obvious in her expression for just a moment.

“Regrettable, but there was no other way…” Edelgard frowned, pulling her axe free from Kostas’s body.

Dimitri ran up to the small group, “Is he dead?”

“He is. Consider this payback for the last time we fought.”

Hubert walked to the princess’s side, “Allow me to clean this up for you, Lady Edelgard.”

“There’s no need,” She looked to Byriel, “Are you alright, Professor?”

“I’m fine,” He wriggled out of Byleth’s grasp, “I just hit my head a bit, that’s all.”

Byleth sighed, standing up slowly as a means to try and not strain her knee. The fall had scrapped the skin, badly, reminding the mercenary of every other time she fell and cut her knees open in the dirt.

“Professor, are you alright?” Dimitri looked concerned.

“Just a scrape, that’s all.”

“Can you walk still?”

She nodded, “I-I think I can walk still.”

“Are you sure?”

“I didn’t break my leg, Dimitri.”

He still looked concerned, though she was a bit happy that he cared so much, she wished he didn’t trouble himself over such a minor injury.

Edelgard frowned a bit and looked over her shoulder, “Lindhardt, can you give the professor a hand?”

The green-haired student walked up to Byleth, his expression neutral, “Now, don’t get your hopes up. It might not heal everything.”

With a brush of his hand, the bleeding stopped and the skin quickly stitched itself back together. It left no scar behind, and the skin underneath was smoother than it ever had been.

Byleth stared at him, “H-How-?!”

“Are we done here?” Lindhardt asked, sounding exhausted.

Dimitri withdrew his weapon, “That was the last of the thieves. We’ll follow the knight’s instructions for what to do next.”

“Alright then,” Claude extended a hand to Byriel and smiled, “You did a pretty damn good job leading us back there, Teach.”

Byriel took the noble’s hand, getting to his feet while Byleth was able to pull herself back up.

Dimitri smiled at her, “You led us well, Professor. Both of you.”

She shuffled a bit as the knights began to enter the canyon, led by Jeralt of course. As the knights began to go through the bodies and the classes began to talk eagerly amongst themselves over their victory, Byriel and Byleth scanned over the remains of the Red Canyon. That same feeling was there, only now it had a name of some kind. Maybe not one they could understand, but it did have a name.

“I remember this being a peaceful place…” Byriel frowned, his expression stern.

“Right…” Byleth echoed.

The two were quiet for a moment, but then they realized just what they had said. Or rather, what they had remembered. This place, these ruins, and rocks broken into pieces and the feeling they had been questioning. Now that name made sense, but it was no more puzzling.

Familiar. This place was familiar to them. Maybe not distinctively familiar, they had never been to this canyon before. But it was more like a dream, or a feeling of déjà vu. Yes, they had walked in this place sometime before, had breathed the cold and dusty air, but had no exact memory of doing so. And yet, they were certain that they had.

“Hmm… I wonder why it is that you two recall this place-” The twins flinched at Sothis’s sudden voice in their heads, and she sighed in annoyance, “You must be weak of heart. Each time I speak, it scares you two so.”

“You surprised us,” Byleth stated.

“Although the battle’s at an end, do not feel too at ease…” Sothis fell quiet, and though she wasn’t with the twins physically, they had a sense that she was thinking of something intently.

“Sothis?” Byriel asked the empty air.

“I am quite fascinated by this place,” she admitted, “As far as I can tell, this is your first time here…”

“Then why is it so familiar?” The male twin frowned.

“Have you been here before, Sothis?” Byleth asked.

“How very odd. I wonder if somehow, my memories have…” She trailed off. After a long moment, she let out a mournful sigh, “I must admit, I am unsure. Beyond the name and this strange feeling of familiarity, I can’t seem to remember anything about this place. And yet, a great depth of emotion is tied to that sense of familiarity. Like joy and sorrow, pain and love, and all things in between…”

The twins looked around the lonely canyon, understanding now what that meant; all those unnamed feelings and emotions churning unsettlingly in their stomachs.

“If I was somehow here before, I wonder what took place…”

Another gust of wind blew through the canyon, sounding like a scream that chilled the twins right down to their very bones.

“Professors?”

The two turned to see the three nobles standing not too far off, looking at them with concern.

“What’s wrong?” Byleth asked.

“You walked off and we were wondering where you went,” Edelgard narrowed her gaze a bit, “You two were just standing here alone…”

“You look grim, what’s up?” Claude gave a questioning look to Byriel.

Byriel straightened, “I-It’s nothing, really…”

“We should return to the monastery soon, everyone’s waiting.” Dimitri smiled at Byleth.

They both nodded, and all five of them walked to rejoin the rest of the classes.

“One day, I will remember that which I have lost. Time reveals all things...” Sothis spoke in their heads again, sounding determined, “Oh, by the way. It seems you’ve earned my gratitude. The thieves who came here are no more.”

“Grateful?” Byleth muttered, so as not to let the other lords hear.

“I am not sure myself, yet I am grateful all the same. In any case, you two must become accustomed to my voice! If you fall down with shock each time I speak, that just won’t do.”

The two could just picture the girl smiling as she spoke, and both sighed a bit.

“Oh, you think you’re standing strong? Of course you are! It was a jest!”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this…” Byleth looked to her brother.

Byriel sighed and nodded, beginning to walk with his sister away from the Red Canyon, their minds still heavy with Sothis’s words.


	16. Chapter 15: Admiration and Allies

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Fifteen⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Admiration and Allies ⋅ ✦

* * *

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

Imperial Year ????

Seteth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♗ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ The aquamarine waves kissed the golden shore, the seafoam bubbling upon the sand as the tide bringing several pastel seashells and sand dollars. The waves glittered from the light of the sun, the light dancing upon the seawater, it being so clear one could see through the shallow troughs of water to the sand at the bottom. The air smelled like saltwater, the warm afternoon breeze gracing the pleasant late spring afternoon. Seteth stood beside the shore, the fishing pole lazily in his grip, one of the few times his posture was relaxed compared to most of the time most people had seen him. _

_ He turned around, to the woman a few feet away. She was human, unlike him, smiling at him as she held a baby in her arms. What once was a world of clear skies and the sound of the crashing waves was then engulfed in flames, the sky stained with crimson and the smoke rising from the ash-filled beach. He coughed and called out, yet his voice was silent as he screamed. The woman fell, her blood staining the ashes and sand around her, a man with scarlet red hair holding a cruel axe, sharp and frequently used. _

_ He looked at Seteth. _

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

He woke up in a cold sweat, the nightmare washing over him and giving him the chills. His covers were tossed aside and in a heap on the floor, his pillow tossed aside, and his nightshirt was wrinkled. Seteth sat up and looked around, feeling faint and sick to his stomach. He stood up, the breaking dawn’s light coming in through the curtains. He walked over to it and pulled back the curtains, looking down at the slowly waking world around Garreg Mach.

He rested his face in his hand, still shaken by the nightmare. It was a memory from long ago, his wife being dead from the archaic battle he was in. The man who did it continued to haunt his dreams, despite how much time had passed. He sighed, looking at the world below as the troves of students came back from the mission dealing with the bandits. It wasn’t hard to spot Byriel and Byleth.

Seteth wondered if something had happened, as the look on Byleth’s face seemed more concerned than usual.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Byleth

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_ Though Byleth knew that she shouldn’t be dwelling on small things, things like how her twin had fallen in the battle before, it felt wrong to just let it go. _

All the while the classes walked back to the monastery, amidst all the excited chatter over the events of the Red Canyon and laughing, Byleth watched her brother closely. Looking for any signs of severe damage that may have happened to him.

He seemed normal. Or, at least, normal for Byriel as he made small statements to answer his students and quiet gestures. Nothing seemed out of place, but there was no way to really know without pulling out some kind of test to make sure everything was fine.

The monastery came into sight, much like the first time they had arrived, and while each class talked eagerly amongst their friends Byriel slowed his pace a bit to catch up with his sister. As they walked, just a little bit behind their students, he looked to his sister with the usual stoic expression.

“Don’t tell dad what happened, alright?”

Byleth narrowed her gaze at him, “By, he deserves to know.”

He shook his head, “He’ll overreact to it as he does with anything I do.”

“Not _ everything _ you do,” Byleth made a face, “Come on, By, he cares about you and you know that. Maybe he doesn’t show it much, but he does.”

Her brother turned away, staring at the slowly approaching monastery, “By, please don’t tell him. I just fell, there wasn’t any blood or serious injury.”

She sighed, “Even if I don’t, Leonie will.”

“Then I can give Leonie detention. Just… please?”

Byleth felt her chest squeeze a bit in response to her brother’s request. Then she shook her head, defeated, “Alright… I won’t say anything. But that doesn’t mean he won’t find out eventually.”

Byriel squinted at the road ahead, “So be it.”

The air was a bit awkward between the two for a bit, the tension only evaporating when the twins were called back to talk with their respective classes. The conversation pushed aside and all but forgotten. Or, at least ignored to some degree. But as the three groups walked back towards the gates of Garreg Mach, Byleth got the feeling that things were probably going to go poorly at some point.

One by one, each student disappeared to their own devices. To eat, rest, pray, to do what they needed to do to recover from the mission. Byleth hoped that the majority of the students weren’t affected negatively by the mission and their first time killing, but there was no guarantee that at least one of them weren’t going to lose sleep that night.

The first time Byriel had killed, it had been an accident she had witnessed. He was kept up for nights over it. The first time Byleth had taken someone’s life was during that same fight, but it had been more intentional. A sword swipe here and a stab there, and her opponent went down. However, she was still new to sword fighting and had not hit the bandit fatally. He died a slow and very painful death, bleeding out and watching his allies fall around him. Before he breathed his last breath, that bandit had called Byleth a heartless, unfeeling demon.

Byleth was just as sleepless as her brother that night, those words going back through her head alongside images of the bandit’s glassy expression and crimson-stained fingers clawing for some kind of salvation; an image that showed up, again and again, differing from bandits to poachers, all to a point where it stopped following her in her dreams.

Eventually, all but the house leaders and the twins were left in the entrance hall. And immediately, Byleth saw Claude speaking to her brother somewhat off to the side.

“Hey, Teach, on the way back you and your sister seemed transfixed by the canyon,” Claude raised an eyebrow, “Did something happen there?”

Byriel glanced briefly to his sister, who hesitated on approaching the two, but then he turned back to the noble, “Actually… it felt a little familiar to us.”

For a moment, Byleth panicked that her brother was about to tell their unspoken secret to Claude. But her attention was quickly drawn away by Dimitri approaching to speak to her.

“Glad to be back again, Professor,” He smiled a little, “I’ll leave the report to Lady Rhea in your hands.”

She turned to the prince, nodding, “O-Of course…”

Dimitri had that concerned look on him again, “Professor, back at the canyon you and your brother walked off on your own… is everything alright?”

Byleth struggled to find the right words, “It’s fine, I was just… I was curious because the canyon wasn’t really red, was it?”

Dimitri looked thoughtful, “Hm, no I suppose it wasn’t… I wonder why they call it the ‘red’ canyon then.”

Before they could keep talking about it, Edelgard began to walk past them. However, she didn’t walk too far before Dimitri looked her way.

“Edelgard?”

The princess stopped and looked at the two. However, Byleth couldn’t help but notice that she seemed a little bit tense. Her posture was rigid, and for a brief moment she had a rather serious expression on her face.

“Dimitri, Professor.”

“Do you have another mission to see to?” Dimitri asked.

She placed a hand over her hip, “I have matters I must attend to, yes.”

Byleth blinked, “Already? We’ve barely returned from the Red Canyon.”

The prince gave a sad smile, “Correct. However, as Adrestia’s future Emperor, I cannot allow myself to fall behind on any of my duties.”

Dimitri frowned, “J-Just be cautious. On a real battlefield, one can never tell what’s to come. You can never dismiss the possibility of the worst-case scenario.”

The princess made a face, “There’s no need to state the obvious, Dimitri. But tell me, why the concern? Perhaps you doubt my abilities? If so, your lack of insight is disappointing.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Dimitri shook his head, “If I’ve offended you, I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Edelgard suddenly looked to Byleth, “Professor, on our way out, I had a chance to observe the Red Canyon. Did you notice anything?”

Byleth pressed her lips together, “It wasn’t really a ‘Red’ Canyon…”

“That, and the area was covered in ruins, each more curious than the last. They did not match the architectural style of any era or culture within the Empire. Or across all of Fódlan for that matter.” 

Both teacher and Dimitri thought back to the remains scattered around the canyon; though they had long since decayed from time, there were many. There had been a history to that place, all but forgotten to the sands of time.

“I wonder then…” Dimitri looked to the princess, “What do you think happened there?”

“Likely the valley’s civilization must have flourished and fallen in the distant past, long before the Empire was established.”

Dimitri frowned, “Surely, something like that would’ve been recorded by the church, Edelgard.”

“Not necessarily,” Edelgard tilted her head a bit, “There are many things that have happened in the past that the church likely never wrote down.”

The prince gave her a look as if she were suddenly speaking a different language. As if the idea was unthinkable. It almost made Byleth crack a smile at how confused the prince looked.

“Who do you think lived there?” Edelgard asked Byleth.

Byleth shrugged, “I have no idea. Maybe it was a culture that existed long before ours?”

Edelgard huffed a laugh, “It’s possible they weren’t even human.”

Dimitri gave the princess a look as if she were insane, “Edelgard, I doubt that’s what happened.”

She turned to him, “Then what do you think existed in that valley, Dimitri?”

“Perhaps our ancestors?” The prince suggested, though it was a hesitant guess, “If it were something important, likely the church would have records of it. 

Edelgard shook her head, “You have no imagination.”

“That’s not-!” Dimitri stammered a bit, but then sighed a bit, “I-I just don’t think the church would neglect such a large detail, that’s all.”

The princess looked slightly frustrated at the prince’s decision, but she didn’t linger too much on it. Edelgard shifted her gaze back to Byleth, “Anyway, I must be off. I will see you again, Professor.”

Without waiting for Byleth to say goodbye, she went off. All the while, however, Dimitri watched her leave. His expression was odd to Byleth; he looked thoughtful and almost longingly as he watched Edelgard go.

Then an idea formed in her head that made everything make sense.

“Puppy love?” Byleth asked.

Dimitri blinked, staring at the professor. Then he burst out laughing. It was a sound that made Byleth herself want to laugh too as it chased off whatever awkward tension was left between him and Edelgard.

“Now, _ that’s _ a lark. I had no idea you had a sense of humor, Professor.”

“I had no idea either…” Byleth muttered a bit.

The prince smiled at her, though this one seemed more genuine and made Byleth’s chest squeeze a bit in response, “I’ll tell you all about it… some other time.”

Byleth frowned, “Hm, now I'm curious…”

“I told you he’s got a thing for Edelgard!” Claude suddenly called out to them, giving the two a grin that almost bordered on wicked. Byleth could also see that her brother was trying to hold back a similar grin.

Dimitri gave the other noble an annoyed look, “Claude, that’s not it.”

“You’ll feel better if you admit it!”

“_ Claude! _”

Byleth had to hold back a laugh at the frustrated glare on Dimitri’s face accompanied by Claude’s rather evil-looking smile. A small laugh did escape her lips, but only for a moment. Enough for Dimitri to give her a surprised look.

“You laughed!”

Byleth hung her head a bit, “S-Sorry…”

“No, it’s fine!” Dimitri smiled widely at her, “I just haven’t heard you laugh before.”

She pressed her lips together, “I-I guess I didn’t have a lot to laugh at before."

Dimitri still grinned at her as he said, “I like hearing you laugh, Professor. I hope I can get you to do so more often.”

Byleth’s mind went blank. Then immediately the urge to run away and hide under a table. She coughed, and immediately turned to her brother, “C-Come on, By, we need to go report to Lady Rhea-!”

“Already?” Byriel whined slightly, clearly having been engaged in whatever conversation he had been having with Claude.

“We shouldn’t keep her waiting,” She glanced to Dimitri, “I-I’ll see you in class, alright?”

He nodded, “I look forward to it, Professor!”

_ He’s making it worse. _

The moment her brother was close enough, she grabbed his arm and dragged him along towards Lady Rhea.

When they were out of ear-shot, Byriel squinted at his sister, “What was that all about?”

“We just have work to do.” She stated quickly.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you this flustered since that boy kissed you as a kid.”

Byleth made a face and internally cringed at the repressed childhood memory, “He surprised me and it was more like getting licked by a smelly dog. I made him regret it though, so it’s fine.”

Her brother rolled his eyes a bit, “I’m sure he instantly regretted it after he got done swallowing his teeth.”

She ignored the comment, dragging her brother behind her as they walked back towards the audience chamber. As they made it to the second floor, Byleth spotted Seteth leaving the very place the twins were trying to reach.

“Hello, Seteth,” Byriel called out to the advisor.

He stopped in his tracks and looked to the twins, and immediately Byleth could see the exhaustion lining the man’s eyes in dark shadows. Had he always looked so worn out?

“Professors,” He nodded to them in acknowledgment, “Lady Rhea is waiting for you. Do not keep her waiting.”

Byleth frowned, “Is everything alright…?”

“Do you need coffee?” Byriel innocently asked, “Hubert gave me some really good coffee from Dagda.”

Seteth stared at the two, and for a moment his expression was soft. But then he shook his head, “N-No, thank you though. I’ve merely been busy with other duties. It’s not something you need to worry over, especially not when you have your own matters to attend to.”

Byleth didn’t think it was just work that had him troubled. But it was unlikely that they could get him to talk about it at this moment.

“Well, alright then…” Byleth tilted her head a bit, “Just make sure you take care of yourself. You won’t get anything done if you overwork yourself, so be sure to sleep when you can.”

Seteth gave her a strange look, and a moment later Byleth realized just how odd it was for someone likely younger than him to lecture the advisor on how to take care of himself. Then again, she was the one to constantly remind her father and brother to watch their health so the words just formed naturally.

“I-I’m just saying-!”

“You’re such a mom sometimes, By,” Byriel quietly chuckled behind her. Then she gave him a light swat on the arm to get him to stop talking.

Byleth expected the advisor to sigh, or to make another disapproving face at their lack of professionalism and somewhat childish behavior. But, surprisingly, he didn’t this time. Maybe he was too tired to do so, or maybe the words had done more for Seteth than they thought, but he actually smiled a little.

“I appreciate your concerns, Professor,” He said, “However, I can assure you both that I’ve handled much worse things than paperwork. For now, focus on your classes and your students.”

The twins frowned, concerned for the advisor as much as they would’ve been for one of their own students or even Jeralt if they looked just as tired as Seteth was.

“I’ve kept you long enough,” He gestured towards the audience chamber, “Lady Rhea is waiting for you both.”

Byleth sighed a bit, “Alright then. Goodbye then…”

He smiled briefly and nodded, “Right, goodbye Professors.”

Oddly enough, as he spoke, Byleth thought for a moment that she saw that a few of his teeth were… sharp-looking. But she didn’t have enough time to get a second look before Seteth walked away, and likely this wasn’t a good enough excuse to use Divine Pulse to get a closer examination.

“By, let’s go.” Byriel tugged on her arm, trying to get her to move.

Byleth looked to her brother, eyes wide with confusion, “D-Did Seteth… have fangs?”

Her brother made a face and spoke sarcastically, “Well he’s so _ obviously _ an ancient dragon, so of _ course _ he’d have fangs.”

“Don’t make fun of me, I just thought-!” She let out an annoyed sigh and walked past Byriel, into the audience chamber.

Her brother laughed a bit as he followed behind closely, though all humor was quickly stored away for later as the two walked before Lady Rhea once more. Again, she stared at them with that all-knowing look, but it wasn’t a sinister feeling. At least, not to Byleth.

“You have returned,” She smiled at the two gently, “And I have heard that you safely disposed of those bandits?”

“Yes,” Byriel nodded.

“I pray that their souls find salvation,” Rhea spoke quietly. However, Byleth didn’t hear a shred of remorse or even a hint of sorrow as she said it.

“It is troublesome; why did they target the students to begin with?” The archbishop looked to the two professors as if they somehow had the answers, “We must further investigate the true cause of all that took place. Until we know more, I ask that you support the students and relieve them of any unnecessary worry.”

“We’ll do all that we can,” Byleth nodded.

Rhea smiled warmly at them, “Good, I have high expectations for you both. By the way, how was your time in Zanado?” She raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Byriel and Byleth turned over several words in their heads, trying to come up with a proper answer for how they could describe being in the Red Canyon without talking about the strange familiarity they felt there.

“It’s a beautiful canyon,” Byriel decided, “But it’s not really a ‘red’ canyon.”

Rhea laced her fingers together over her chest, “Legend has it, in ancient times, a goddess alighted upon this world in that very canyon. For a goddess from the heavens, Zanado could only have been a temporary haven.”

“What do you mean?” Byriel asked.

The archbishop raised her head a little, “Long ago, the divine Seiros received a revelation from the goddess. A gift to help guide the lost. The goddess is always watching over Fódlan from her kingdom above.”

The twins were silent, listening intently to Rhea as she continued to recite what she likely has repeated many times before.

“However, in ancient times, the goddess graced this world with her presence and offered salvation to the people here,” Rhea concluded, “She is the mother of all life, the arbiter of every soul.”

Byleth frowned a little, “Our father never told us.”

The archbishop hung her head, looking saddened, “I see…”

“S-Sorry…”

After a moment, Rhea regained her composure and facade, “No, there is no need to apologize. I understand that Jeralt has kept many things from you. I hope during your time here, you two come to devote yourselves to the teachings of Seiros.”

Recalling the conversation with Dimitri and Edelgard before, Byleth spoke up, “There were ruins all across the canyon… were those built there by Seiros?”

The archbishop was quiet for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Her fingers tightened their grip to a point that Rhea’s knuckles were white. Then she smiled just a little too tightly, “Perhaps. Regrettably, though, we may never know. It was a very long time ago and there are no other records of Zanado, after all.”

Before the twins could respond, the audience chamber doors opened once again and Seteth entered briskly.

“Lady Rhea, I am sorry to interrupt,” He bowed quickly the moment he reached her side, “There is something I must ask about in regard to those bandits…”

She nodded, “As you wish,” Then she gave the twins an apologetic look, “We shall continue our discussion when we next meet.”

Despite Byleth wanting to ask more questions, she knew that she couldn’t argue against the two. So, reluctantly, the twins made their leave of the audience chamber and began the walk back towards the dorms in silence.

Once they were far enough away, however, a familiar voice came up in their heads, “A goddess… I have no memory of her. But then… I have no memory at all!” Sothis cried, frustrated.

The twins went still, standing in front of the monastery’s pond as Sothis whined. Byleth taking the time to turn to her brother, “You saw the ruins there, right?”

He nodded, “Claude also thought it was weird. I haven’t come across anything that could explain what could’ve been there.”

“Maybe…” Byleth pressed an index finger into her cheek thoughtfully, “I’m curious as to what could’ve been there-”

“Oh, how bothersome!” Sothis huffed in anger, “It is as though I know, and yet I don’t!”

The twins fell quiet, waiting to see if Sothis would continue, both squinting in slight annoyance at being interrupted.

“Perhaps Zanado was my home back when the goddess walked the land,” Sothis suggested, “If so, what does that make me now? A ghost?”

“You could be a ghost,” Byriel shrugged, “You don’t have a physical body.”

“Hm, no, that cannot be. I am most certainly alive.” Sothis debated.

“How do you know?” Byleth asked, tilting her head a bit.

“I _ know _ that I am alive.”

Byriel made a face, “Maybe you’re a nymph? Like the ones that curse children who go wandering out into the woods at night? That would explain why you’re stuck with us.”

Byleth choked back a laugh.

“Oh quiet such nonsense,” Sothis grumbled, “Though you do bring up the important mystery of why I’m here with you both. Is it somehow connected?”

The twins were quiet, thinking intently of a solution to this difficult puzzle. 

“Perhaps,” Sothis piped up, “Some past regret is stopping me from moving on and now I’m forced to stay with you instead…”

“I thought you said you weren’t a ghost,” Byleth asked.

“Ugh, no, that’s not it!” Sothis huffed, “I can’t believe in such a meaningless existence! I… I…”

Then silence followed. The two waited for the girl to speak again, but she didn’t.

“Hey, are you still there?” Byriel asked the empty air, only to get no response.

Byleth frowned, her head spinning from trying to go over all the branching paths and possibilities that seemed to stretch and twist into dead ends.

“I’ll go through the library and see what I can find,” Byriel concluded, “No way I can focus on anything else now.”

“I can help you, you know,” Byleth poked her brother’s arm lightly.

Byriel smiled a bit, “Well I wasn’t about to ask anyone else to help me.”

“Not even Claude?” Her brother hesitated, and she laughed a bit, “I’m just teasing you, By.”

He made a face and poked her arm in return, though with a little more pressure, “I mean, I _ can _ask Claude if you’re too busy with your paramour Dimitri.”

“What the-?!” Byleth stammered, her thoughts scattering like a flock of startled birds, “Sh-Shut up, he’s not- he’s my student! What the hell gave you that impression?!”

Byriel gave a wicked smile and ran off quickly before she could lay the smackdown on him. Byleth let out a frustrated huff and darted after her brother, determined to rain some kind of revenge on her other half.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

????

╚═════════ ∘◦ 👁 ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Look at how they crawl upon the ground like tiny little ants, all going about their boring, painfully short lives. _ However, as small as they are, ants have an order that makes sense. Ants don’t have to worry about pesky little things like why the history of some old canyon matters to anyone, and ants don’t need things like curiosity anyway. They aren’t slowed down by such stupid questions.

So small and fragile… and painfully boring to watch.

As the twins ran towards the dorms, one guard watched them as he walked across the academy’s yard towards the reception hall. Annoyingly, every guard and knight that he passed insisted on saying hello in some form, slowing him down.

He wished he could make at least one of them just shut up.

Soon enough, his walking came to an end as he walked into the library. Nothing but paper and dust were waiting there. A few steps more, one mundane book moved and the sound of stone scraping against the wood, revealed a long and worn series of steps that led down. The entrance smelled faintly of must and mothballs, but it didn’t matter as he took one creaking step at a time to reach the belly of the monastery’s abyss below.

Beneath its stately facade, the monastery had a darkness that waited beneath it. Secrets that squirmed about like worms trying to escape the earth beneath. And Valence couldn’t help but smile just a little as he reached the depths, as he knew something that the others who walked above day after day didn’t.

As Valence walked into the wide stretch of the catacombs, he stretched out his arms with a satisfying _ pop _. The place smelled like damp stone, and there was no burning sun overhead. It was a familiar feeling, one that meant isolation and no interruptions. However, there was one annoyance that came in the feeling of a sharp blade’s tip meeting the skin behind his neck.

“Oh please, it’s just me,” He rolled his eyes, “Who else would know how to reach this place?”

“I care not who you are or what face you wear,” A low and distorted voice growled, “I shall spill your blood all the same.”

Valence laughed, “You can’t kill me. I can certainly kill you, but let’s not tempt fate. I’m not here because I want to be, you know.”

Silence fell over the two, and the blade was pulled back just as quickly as it had been drawn. Valence rolled his neck a bit, taking a moment to look over the famed Death Knight he was stuck with; spiked armor that glinted like obsidian, looking worn from years of never-ending combat and decorated with a torn, blood-red cape. A horned, skull-like helmet molded perfectly to the skin of the monster beneath, and a scythe to suit the omen of death.

Valence smiled, “I thought you’d be taller. This is kind of disappointing.”

In response, the knight pointed his scythe at the guard’s throat.

“Now then, gentlemen, let’s not do anything brash. We are here to discuss business, after all.” The two turned to the steps that Valence had come from, seeing an old man with a cane descend down the stairs. Though he was only an old man briefly before he finally dropped the skin of the librarian Tomas to reveal a much more familiar, and even more obnoxious face.

“I’m not the one acting like a bloodthirsty animal, Solon,” Valence made a face, “Keep the Flame Emperor’s dog on a leash before he bites the wrong person.”

The hideous old man frowned, “Are you saying you’re afraid of him?”

Valence laughed, “Afraid? No, it’s more for his sake. If he keeps annoying me, I’ll have to put him down myself.”

“Enough,” Solon pointed a shriveled finger at Valence, “Silence your speech and listen carefully to my words. And for hell’s sake, put down that horrendous disguise. No one will overhear us here.”

Valence smirked, and with a roll and a _ crack _ of his shoulders he finally peeled back his annoying guard disguise. The standard uniform for every person who swore to protect the monastery disappeared, leaving armor that molded around his body like dark threads of muscle in between plate mail and a glowing red Crest branded across his chest.

The person that once wore the guard’s skin was much leaner and smaller than the character he stuck to. He was sickly pale, much like the hideous old man was, as if he had never spent one moment in the sun since the day he learned to breathe. Even his hair, a disheveled and ratty mess, was stark white. The only trace of color he had was a crimson mark over the right side of his face, the skin marred and warped into long, branch-like scars that started from the white pit that was once his right eye and spread outward like a weed’s stubborn roots.

The other eye, a violet so dark it almost seemed black, stared at Solon, bored, “I’m all ears, but can we make this quick? I have other things I would rather be doing.”

“Then I’ll be brief,” Solon straightened as much as he could, “I assume that you were told to keep an eye on the new professors. What have you learned?”

Valence frowned, “I don’t see any reason why you have to be so worried over those two.”

“What did you learn?” Solon repeated, more harshly.

“That they’re obnoxious, stupid children given the job of teaching a bunch of noble brats,” He rolled his eye, “Maybe the one they stuck with Golden Deer is especially stupid and the other is ridiculously annoying, but there’s nothing about them that’s interesting.”

Solon scowled, “You say that after all that you’ve seen? You have no concern for them even though they’ve proven to be successful strategists?! They could ruin everything-!”

“Who cares if they are a threat? I don’t,” Valence shrugged, “I don’t care how smart or how strong they’re supposed to be, because it doesn’t matter; they’re just two humans and they can’t kill me.”

“What arrogance…” The Death Knight growled.

Valence glanced briefly over at the brute, “Are _ you _ afraid of them?”

“I fear nothing,” The monster twitched in his armor.

The pale man smirked, “You humans are always afraid of something. Even you. I wonder if I can figure it out.”

“Silence your tongue before I rip it out of your throat.”

“You won’t,” Valence chuckled, “You can’t kill me. You’re just a human. Humans can’t even hope to kill me or my kind.”

The Death Knight snarled at him like a rabid wolf, making Valence laugh a high-pitched sound that more resembled metal nails scratching over a chalkboard.

Solon glowered, “Valence, if you do not take this seriously-”

“What will you do?” The Agarthan smiled, “Or rather, what can you do _ without _ me? I’m doing such a good job observing for you, after all. You still need me for that, don’t you? So why don’t you tell me just who exactly you need an extra set of eyes on?”

Solon growled in frustration. It was far too easy to get the crumpled old man to snap. It would likely be just as easy to break him in half physically as well, but Valence knew that the dark bishop was still somewhat useful. For now at least.

“Listen carefully,” Solon spoke up, “You both have had enough time to become familiar with the various faces that wander these halls.”

“Correct.” The Death Knight nodded.

“Depends on which one.” Valence shrugged.

Solon clasped his hands together, “The archbishop has an advisor, Seteth.”

“That old fool?”

“And Seteth has a sister, Flayn,” Solon locked eyes with Valence, “Those two have been blessed by the goddess, and you are to keep an eye on that little girl. When you find an opening, I expect you both to have no trouble bringing her to me.”

Valence frowned, “That green-haired brat?”

“Bring her to me, alive,” Solon instructed, “Do not let anyone become suspicious of your actions, and you are not to kill anyone unnecessarily.”

“You dragged me here for one little girl…” Valence huffed, annoyed.

“Would you rather I bring Chilon into this?” Solon smirked a bit.

Nothing made Valence uneasy. Nothing ever scared him, and why should anything? He was the most powerful Agarthans ever created, and he had crushed everything that gave him trouble in his path. However, the name Chilon brought upon images of someone Valence would rather not piss off too much.

He laughed again, “Go right ahead, I won’t stop you. But I thought you wanted that little girl alive?”

“Do not disappoint, and there will be no need to call upon the Wraith himself,” Solon turned back towards the steps, “That will be all. We will not meet again, so remember my instructions well. Thales will not be pleased if you make any foolish mistakes.”

Valence and the Death Knight watched Solon dawn on the face of the old keeper of the library once more, and vanish up the steps.

With another yawn, Valence took up the face of the guard from before. He hated how bulky it felt wearing the skin of this guard he didn’t bother to remember the name of, wishing he could instead be wearing a much more interesting and more favored face. But alas, he had to wait.

“I guess I’ll leave you a message if I learn anything,” Valence walked back towards the stairs, “Or you can do it yourself, I don’t care. I have things I’d rather be doing.”

The Death Knight didn’t move, however. He stood still and rigid as his distorted voice spoke, “You have been stalking one of the students…”

Valence stopped his motions on the first step.

“Do not think I haven’t noticed.”

“What about it?” Valence asked, “It’s not like you’re friends with any of those other brats.”

The Death Knight leveled his scythe at the Agarthan again, “You also stalk the people who associate with him.”

Valence turned to the armored fiend and smirked, “You’re pretty observant.”

“You are not as clever as you think you are.”

“And what are you going to do about it? Stop me?”

The Agarthan could feel the burn of the monster’s gaze beneath the mask, “Keep your obsessions to one person, or else I will make good on my promise to tear your tongue out.”

Valence laughed, smiling ear to ear, “What’s the matter? Could it be that you’re afraid of me hurting someone you care about?”

There was a gust of wind followed by a _ crack. _ An inch from Valence’s right eye was the edge of the scythe, the tip of the blade buried deep into the stone.

The Agarthan smirked, “So you are afraid of something… how terribly human of you.”

“Continue to talk,” The Death Knight challenged, his masked face inches from Valence’s, “It will only make your death more inevitable.”

Valence tilted his head a bit, “Whoever you’re so afraid of me finding, I don’t care. I don’t care whoever it is, but know this…”

The Agarthan raised a hand, gripping the back of the scythe’s blade. With one pull, it dislodged from the stone with another _ crack _. Valence leaned in a little closer to the masked monster’s face and frowned.

“If anyone gets in the way of me understanding him, no matter who they are, I will break them into pieces. You’re all just a bunch of fragile little humans, and you all break apart the same way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eldritch Gremlin: Birddi worked mostly on this (I wrote the Seteth stuff), give her a ton of love! We're back in classes which is why this chapter is short, but expect more content next week ^^


	17. Chapter 16: Paper Walls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eldritch Gremlin: Sorry for missing last week! Here's an extra-long chapter for you all :>

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Sixteen ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Paper Walls⋅ ✦

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6/1

Garland Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Seteth

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_ The duties to the advisor of the Archbishop were a seemingly never-ending list. _ So much fell upon Seteth’s shoulders to keep in order; spiritual instruction, ceremony oversight, donation management, every one of the church’s many administrative tasks alongside the priesthood, Knights of Seiros, and Officers Academy. It went without saying that he had very little time in between to rest, and oftentimes he found himself staying awake all hours of the night going through various documents and letters.

However, as of late, he had put more work upon himself as a means of purposefully avoiding as much sleep as possible. For every time he seemed to close his eyes or doze off accidentally, he was reawoken from the same images as before.

Blood-colored hair, cruel eyes and an axe. Those same images returned like a particularly stubborn cold. Seteth didn’t understand why though. Perhaps he was just that stressed, or Jeralt’s words had impacted him more than he thought, but these were things he had long tried to put away. He had spent longer than he should’ve trying to push past these old painful memories, attempting to keep strong for the sake of the archbishop and, more importantly, for Flayn. Yet why now? Was it some kind of message or warning from a divine force? An unlikely possibility, but was it something to be ignored?

Before the professors were set to join the archbishop to disclose the month’s mission, Seteth made his way to the audience chamber before anyone else. Luckily, managing to find Rhea alone before any of the other attendants could arrive. She had been dismissive of his concerns over the bandits the day before, pulled away with other daunting tasks, but it was not an issue he intended to let slip.

“Ah, Seteth,” Rhea gave him a light smile, “You are here rather early.”

“Pardon my intrusion, archbishop,” He gave a stern, brief bow, “But there are matters I wish to discuss with you. Important matters that cannot be ignored.”

The archbishop nodded, “Of course, Seteth.”

They had done this so often now that they both immediately walked towards the room on the side of the audience chamber. When they were both inside, Seteth made sure that the door was locked while Rhea stood close to her own desk.

“Now then,” She spoke up, “What was it that concerned you?”

“This is about the bandits.”

Rhea frowned, “You need not worry about that, Seteth. The professors have disposed of them and we have more pressing issues at hand.”

Seteth held his hands behind his back, “Many of the knights that went to the Red Canyon say that they were the same bandits that attacked the professors and house leaders one month prior. Is that true?”

Rhea’s back was to him, “Regrettably, I cannot be certain.”

“Rhea,” Seteth said her name sharply, “It is crucial that you tell me if you knew or not.”

The archbishop finally looked to him, her expression still, “Even if I did know, they have been sent to the Eternal Flames.”

He crossed his arms, feeling tense.

“Is something troubling you, Seteth?”

“I don’t like this,” He stated, “One month ago our students were attacked by that group of bandits. Then they strike a second time. Rhea, someone is deliberately targeting our students.”

“I know,” Rhea folded her hands together, “Do not think these matters have gone ignored, Seteth. I have already asked Shamir to look into these matters, and I have requested that Catherine accompany the students in next month’s mission.”

The words did nothing to ease the advisor’s worries. Not by even a little. The advisor let out a long sigh, feeling exhausted from the previous night’s visions. It felt that every time he dared to close his eyes, he would see that image once more.

Blood red hair. Cold, unfeeling eyes. A cruel axe made from sin and violence.

Rhea stepped closer to him, her expression softened into one of concerned worries, “You seem distracted as of late. Your eyes are lined with shadows, what is it that keeps you awake?”

He clenched his hands together tightly. So much so that he could feel the old scars on his palms sting a little in protest, “I cannot help but think that this may be the start of something disastrous.”

Rhea grew still, her expression unreadable.

“There is an uprising at Castle Gaspard, and I have received three reports of people in the Alliance going missing for long periods of time only to return suddenly. The same group of bandits strike our students twice, bandits who had knowledge of where they were going and what their missions were, someone must’ve given them that information.”

“You worry too much, Seteth,” Rhea shook her head sternly.

“This has nothing to do with me,” He stated, “This is for Flayn’s sake. If someone, regardless of whoever they may be, is targeting our students then Flayn’s life could be at risk. You know what could happen if someone found out her identity!”

“Flayn is safe here. The monastery is guarded by the knights and the professors are here now. I promise you that no harm will come to her.”

“A promise is not a guarantee that something won’t happen,” Seteth set his jaw tightly.

“Why are you so fearful, my advisor? What unholy person would be mad enough to try and storm this holy place?”

“What if he-” He felt his throat grow tight at the images and stopped. Blood red hair and cold eyes once again.

As if she had read his thoughts, Rhea’s face shifted just enough to tell Seteth her concern, “He’s dead, Seteth. The Wraith died alongside the King of Liberation and the rest of his traitorous followers.”

“We never found a body to prove it.”

“Those beasts have been dead for centuries,” Rhea looked grim, “I assure you that those… those _ things _ are nothing more than dust and bones buried deep within the ground. Whatever was left behind has been erased from history, and so is he.”

“Even if he’s gone, someone _ is _ plotting against the church. We cannot take it lightly.”

“Fódlan has been at ease for centuries and we’ve put an end to every plot against the church before.”

“We thought the exact same thing before, but we were proven wrong in the worst of ways.”

Rhea went rigid, “That will not happen.”

“How do you know that?”

“I will _ not _ let that happen again!” Rhea snapped suddenly, causing Seteth to flinch. She had that same expression from when the monastery had caught fire. Rage-filled and spiteful, and utterly terrifying.

“Rhea-”

“We fought for this peace,” Rhea straightened, her expression set in anger, “We destroyed those who dared raise their blades against us, and we watched our kin be slaughtered by those who turned their backs against the goddess. Everything we sacrificed was for this peace, not just for us but for all of Fódlan. For Flayn and the professors, for the people we hold dear to never see the horrors of war and suffer the losses we felt, _ that _ is what we fought for! And so long as I am archbishop I will _ not _ let anyone take that away. Not again. Not _ ever _again!”

The room suddenly felt very cold as the last of the archbishop’s words rang out. The last bits of burning rage suddenly went out in Rhea, leaving only somber embers behind.

There came a knock at their doors, followed by a voice, “Archbishop, the professors are outside waiting for you.”

Rhea regained her composure, “Very well. Come then, Seteth. We cannot keep the professors waiting any longer.”

She didn’t wait for Seteth to come up with any kind of response before walking towards the door. He wanted to say something, anything at all, but he had no idea what words she needed to hear.

“Professors, we have a new mission for your students,” Rhea smiled calmly the moment the two professors entered the audience chamber. Seteth couldn’t help but notice that Byriel Eisner looked as if he had just gotten out of bed if his rumpled clothes and hair were any indication.

“Yes?” Byleth straightened.

The advisor crossed his arms, “We have received reports that Lord Lonato has rallied troops against the Holy Church of Seiros.”

Byleth’s expression morphed into recognition, then just enough to voice her worries and fears without speaking. Seteth felt his heart sink, knowing that this mission would weigh heavily on her and her students.

Byriel frowned, unfamiliar with the name in his tired state, “Lord Lonato?”

“Lord Lonato is a minor lord of the Kingdom,” Rhea explained to the tired professor, “He has been showing hostility toward the church for some time now.”

“A vanguard unit from the Knights of Seiros is already on its way to his stronghold, Castle Gaspard. Lord Lonato’s army is nothing compared to the knights. It’s quite possible the rebellion has already been suppressed.”

Rhea clasped her hands together, “Even so, I would like for your classes to travel with the knights' rearguard to deal with the aftermath.”

“War zones are unpredictable,” Seteth warned, though he had a feeling the two mercenaries were already well aware, “We do not expect you will have cause to battle, but be prepared for the worst.”

“But he’s Ashe’s adoptive father…” Byleth started to speak, but her words fell short, “Is there no other way to settle this without a battle?”

Seteth sighed a bit, sympathetic, “I am fully aware of Lord Lonato’s relation to your student, professor. But as unfortunate as it is, there simply is no other alternative.”

“No, there has to be something else,” Byleth shook her head, insisting, “There has to be some other way to end this without-”

“By…” Her brother grabbed her arm gently.

“I am sorry, professor,” Rhea looked just as sympathetic, or at least she pretended to do so, “But Lord Lonato has made his stance against the church very clear. He will not listen to reason, therefore we have no other alternative but to use force.”

The doors suddenly opened, and a voice called in, “Excuse me, you sent for me, Lady Rhea?”

Approaching the group was a woman that Seteth knew well; Catherine, a former graduate of the Officer’s Academy and one of the most reckless Knights of Seiros Seteth had ever met. Adorn in the knight’s armor, light blonde hair pulled back and azure eyes gleaming with the anticipation of battle.

Seteth just hoped that the professors could ensure that the knight wouldn’t get herself hurt. This battle was as personal to her as it would be for the Blue Lion class.

“This is Catherine,” Rhea smiled, “She will be leading the knights whom you will be accompanying.”

Catherine grinned at the twin professors, “Nice to meet you! We’ve heard a lot about you two.”

“H-Hello…” Byleth shrank back, that anxiety showing itself again.

Byriel stood behind his sister a bit, looking at Catherine with some suspicion.

Catherine, unphased, smiled even more, “Aw no need to look so uneasy. I don’t bite. If you need anything, just ask.”

“She is one of our bravest knights,” Rhea explained, “And that is no small feat. Only an exceptional few have what it takes to join the Knights of Seiros.”

“You there,” She looked to Byleth, “I heard a rumor somewhere that you’re pretty good with a sword.”

Byleth shuffled a bit in her stance, “I suppose so…”

“Let’s say you and I spar sometime then,” Catherine laughed, “I’d love to try my hand against one of the legendary professors!”

“Legendary?” Byriel looked confused.

“I-I don’t lose,” Byleth stated.

“That’s what they say, but I’d love to see for myself,” Catherine gave her a wink, “Don’t you dare hold back.”

Byleth huffed a nervous laugh, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t be, I can take a lot more than you think.”

Seteth frowned, “Catherine, do not get careless. Don’t think I haven’t heard of the battle you faced last month.”

The knight laughed, smiling cheerily, “Ah, that was just a little scratch.”

“You could’ve died.” He emphasized.

“But I killed the dastard, so it all turned out fine in the end.”

Byriel groaned, “You’re just like her, blockhead.”

“I am not, blockhead.”

“Stop denying the truth.”

Seteth cleared his throat a bit, focusing the three’s attention back to the archbishop. As slightly entertaining as it could be to watch the professors bicker, they were going off track.

Rhea straightened, “I have the utmost confidence in all of you. This mission should prove useful in demonstrating to the students how foolish it would be to ever turn their blades on the church. Pointing a sword at the Holy Church of Seiros is akin to pointing a sword at the goddess herself. Meting out appropriate punishment to the sinful…” Her eyes burned a cold fury, “It is a sacred duty with which we have been entrusted. As a member of the church yourselves, I hope you will take that to heart.”

Both twins fell silent, their expressions morphed into confusion and shock at the harsh words. But Rhea was right in some respects; the church was not a force to go against recklessly. There was a reason that it had withstood so much in the past centuries, and it was why Seteth allowed himself and Flayn to reside there at all.

He didn’t agree with Rhea’s every decision, however. The system that Rhea has created was a biased one, one that viewed strength and power as a substitute for leadership. It was one that valued the strength rather than how it was used, and it reflected the most with how people who were born with Crests were treated compared to the ones without. It made Seteth upset thinking that people were foolish enough to judge a person’s value in blood. A Crest was little more than an inherited fortune, not a badge to prove one’s worth.

But that was the world. It was a world that Rhea had built regardless if she had meant for things to grow as they were now, and it was one she was set on keeping still. And, regrettably, there was little anyone, not even the professors or Seteth himself, could do about it.

Byriel

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_ Byriel began his seemingly impossible search for answers to the history of Zanado as soon as he could. _

He had gone through every shelf available to him in the monastery’s library, picking any title that could remotely relate to the history of Fódlan, the canyon itself, right down to the church history. By the end of his search, Byriel had a tall stack of books taking space in the chair next to him as well as three different titles spread out on the table in front of him, all opened to different pages that his eyes squinted at behind his glasses, searching for anything standout.

Sadly, his searches had led to dead end after dead end until Byriel felt like screaming into a corner in frustration; his eyes felt dry, he felt thirsty, and he ran out of coffee sometime between the seventh or eight books he had gone through.

He sat with his cheek leaning against his palm, staring at the pages and commanding them to make sense and give him the answers he needed, when he heard the library doors open again. Hoping it wasn’t Tomas and his creepy, dead-eyes, he didn’t look up to see who it was and just turned to the next page in his book.

“Yo, Teach! You’re here too?”

_ Oh crap _.

Byriel kept his gaze still, staring at the book, “Hello, Claude.”

“I see you’re as stony-faced as usual. I can’t tell if you’re feeling resigned or if you’re just lost in thought. Or maybe you simply don’t care about anything that’s going on.” 

“No talking in the library.”

“Oh, sorry. I really didn’t mean to be rude. I just find you fascinating.”

Byriel pressed his face closer to the pages of the book, hoping that Claude would eventually disappear. The plan didn’t work.

The noble approached the table Byriel was situated at, peering over the professor’s shoulder, “What are you reading there?”

He tensed a bit at how suddenly close the noble suddenly was, “Trying to find anything about the Red Canyon… ”

Claude looked to Byriel, “Oh, you are? I was here to do the same thing! Find anything noteworthy?”

Byriel frowned, “Nothing…”

The noble sighed, frustrated, “Damn, I was hoping there was something here. I went through everything I could sneak from under Tomas’s nose and found pretty much nothing.”

The former mercenary finally looked up, narrowing his eyes at Claude, “You stole books?”

Claude smiled a bit, “I wouldn’t say I stole anything, I just borrowed a few things from that restricted place upstairs.”

“Claude.”

“Well, this _ is _ a library.”

Byriel probably should’ve given the noble a lecture about stealing, but honestly, he doubted that it would leave an impact on the schemer.

Claude looked over the table, eyebrows narrowed, “Wait, have you been reading all of these?”

“Yeah?”

“Even this stack?” Claude gestured to the large pile of books next to Byriel.

Byriel shrugged, “I like reading.”

The noble laughed a bit, “I think that’s an understatement, Teach! And I thought I read a lot of books!”

“Is that bad?”

“No, not at all,” Claude picked up one of Byriel’s open books from the table, pulling it closer to look at, “I kind of guessed you were the more studious type compared to your sister.”

“She reads,” Byriel stated, “I just read more.”

Claude made a face at the book, “You can stand reading all this boring church scripture?”

“That’s why I have these out,” He gestured to the other works spread out in front of them, “I don’t like just focusing on one book.”

“Mind if I borrow a few then?”

“Why?”

Claude had that scheming face again, “Just for research.”

Byriel squinted, “I’m also researching.”

“What if I trade you some of these for a few I borrowed from the restricted section? That’d be an equal exchange, right?”

Byriel perked up a little bit, wanting to see the coveted restricted books that Tomas never let even him see despite his professor status. Byriel was curious to learn how Claude managed to sneak past Tomas, but knowing Claude it was likely something cunning and maybe a bit stupid.

“Do we have a deal, Teach?” Claude smiled, offering his hand.

“Only if you let me see what you have for research.”

“Why?”

Byriel made a face, “Because we’re both trying to learn about why the Red Canyon is called the ‘Red’ Canyon. We’d get more done if we worked towards the same goal.”

Claude frowned a bit, “I usually don’t need anyone to back me up, Teach.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone usually, Teach.”

Byriel’s shoulders sank a bit. But then Claude sighed a bit, “But I’m pretty sure after everything so far… I can at least trust that you won’t rat me out to Tomas for stealing.”

“Borrowing.”

Claude smirked a bit, “Right, borrowing. Alright, let’s go then.”

“Where?”

“You think I’d just tell you what I found out in the middle of the library?”

“Fair,” Byriel closed the books in front of him, taking the more informative with him and putting the rest back on their respective shelves, before writing out that he was going to borrow them and following Claude out the doors and through the monastery.

The two walked at an easy pace through the busy monastery, passing by the many monks and students that were somewhat familiar in some regards, as well as a few guards for the monastery who said a few greetings as they passed.

As Byriel had guessed, the two stopped on the second floor of the dormitories and in front of Claude’s room. A moment later, the door was unlocked and Claude stood to hold the door open for Byriel.

“After you, Teach.” He laughed.

Byriel took a quick glimpse into the room and frowned, “Your room is a mess, Claude.”

“Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

The two entered the room, and Byriel immediately had to move his feet to avoid stepping on any books on the floor. While his bedsheets and carpet were the customary Golden Deer yellow all the other students had, it didn’t feel like the room of someone who would become a duke. It was the messiest room Byriel had ever seen, far messier than his sister’s room. Books were all over the floor, in heaps on his desk, scattered on his window sill, and dumped onto his bed with little to no regard, like a squirrel preparing for winter with nuts. There was even a chemistry set on the desk, vials and mysterious chemicals lined up, ready to be used. He wasn’t sure if he should be happy that his student was getting into science or very concerned that Claude had gotten his hands on a _ chemistry set _.

Probably the second one.

“I’d make tea, but the teacups I keep in here are kind of dirty.”

Byriel made a face, “How do you find anything in here?”

“Like this,” Claude rummaged under his bed and pulled out something wrapped tightly in some extra blankets. Pulling them away revealed a few very old and very fragile-looking books that smelled sharply of aged paper.

Claude handed one of the titles to Byriel, “Be careful with this one, it’s kind of falling apart.”

Byriel turned it over in his hands gently, marveling at how old it looked. Guessing from the texture of the leather, it was bound in some kind of sheepskin, telling the lover of reading that this book has likely seen a lot of history. And was probably too delicate to be passed around carelessly now. Still, Claude seemed to know that and took care of it to some extent.

“Impressive, right?” Claude smiled a bit.

Byriel didn’t want to admit that anything about Claude was impressive, so he sharply stated, “Impressed about the book or impressed that you were able to steal it?”

“Whatever you find the most attractive, Teach.” He said, with a wink.

_ I’m going to throw him out the window, _Byriel thought with a scowl, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, “What’s this book about anyway? History?”

“Yeah, but it’s older than 1065.”

“Why does that matter?” Byriel asked.

Claude tapped the cover of the book gently, “This was recorded before the Southern Church uprising back in 1065. Have you come across that yet?”

The young professor squinted in thought, going over what he remembered from reading over the history books, “The insurrection that spread through the Adrestian Empire that was put down and replaced with the Ministry of Religion.”

“Right,” Claude nodded, “That means that this book was written before the Southern Church was replaced by House Varley.”

Byriel looked down at the old relic, “So it’d be different than anything in the monastery.”

“Right, though the problem with this is that the pages are written in really old common. Take a look.”

He obliged, opening the book carefully to a random page and stared. It looked like the common language that Byriel had been taught how to read, but most of the words were spelled so strangely that upon reciting it out loud, it sounded like he was trying to speak some kind of gibberish with a full mouth. He couldn’t even read two lines without stopping to choke a bit on his own butchered words.

Claude frowned at the pages, “Can you imagine someone reading this out loud during a sermon?”

“Can you imagine writing hundreds of versions of this?” Byriel added on.

The noble chuckled at the joke.

“And you think _ this _ has answers?”

Claude shrugged, “I honestly have no idea, but most of the books in the monastery’s library say the same history. Everything is just a little too similar and easy to understand, and anyone who’s ever read a history book knows that things are never really simple.”

Byriel nodded, “History is messy.”

“Right. And a lot of stuff is never written down and is lost forever. But this,” He gestured again to the book, “This might uncover something lost a long time ago. I mean, the church doesn’t want anyone to read it, but they still keep it in their records instead of destroying it. It means it’s important, somehow.”

The young professor looked down at the book, wondering what sort of history these old pages had endured and what secrets it held. Immediately, Byriel’s head raced with the possibilities. He felt eager to look deeper into whatever mystery was ahead, but this was definitely a stubborn wall that guarded the truth.

“Still doesn’t help that I can’t read this.”

“Yeah,” Claude sighed, “I have another book that’s supposed to tell you what all this means, but I’ll still probably be staring at it confused for three weeks or something.”

Byriel looked down at the gibberish text, lightly bit the inside of his cheek in thought, then spoke up, “I’m pretty good at copying things down.”

The noble raised his eyebrow questioningly, “You’re not serious about helping me, are you?”

“Why would I lie about that? Aren’t professors supposed to be interested in their student’s interests?”

Claude chuckled, “Well, you aren’t wrong! Speaking of which, before you and your sister came here, you were mercenaries, right? Always getting your hands dirty on the battlefield and whatnot? It’s a bit unusual that you suddenly decided to become a teacher one day.”

Byriel shrugged a little bit, “We were mercenaries, yes. We became teachers because of Alois’s recommendation, and so far it’s been fine. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask; did your father teach you how to fight?”

He nodded, “Yes, he did.”

“I figured,” The noble smiled a bit, “Your father used to lead the Knights, didn’t he? And I hear he was a legendary mercenary as well.”

“The only thing legendary about him is how much he can drink.”

“You don’t say. It must have been hard on your mother when you followed in your father’s footsteps and became a mercenary too.”

Byriel frowned a bit, “We never knew our mother. She died the day we were born.”

The noble immediately lost the humor and looked sympathetic, “I see. I suppose you two grew up moving from battlefield to battlefield with your father then…”

Honestly, Byriel didn’t think that there was another option _ but _ to become a mercenary. It was a topic that Jeralt and Byriel did bicker about many times in the past, but Byriel didn't think that there was any other way to live before now. It was just something he accepted and grew accustomed to.

Claude gave him a tilted smile, “You know, for someone who’s right around the same age as me, you certainly have an unusual amount of composure.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all,” He shook his head, “I guess it’s only natural that you’d be different from young nobles who grew up in the lap of luxury.”

Byriel squinted a bit, “You certainly don’t seem like a noble either, Claude.”

“Oh yeah?” Claude’s smile widened, “What do I seem like then?”

“A scoundrel.”

“A handsome scoundrel, I hope?”

Byriel made a face, and Claude laughed. It was a nice sound, admittedly, and it seemed like one of the few times the noble’s smile finally reached his eyes.

“Even so,” Claude continued, “I am heir to House Riegan, the leading family of the Alliance. But I didn’t exactly grow up in luxury like most people of noble blood.”

Byriel frowned, “What do you mean?”

“I’ll tell you about it some other time,” Claude gave him a smile, “But maybe that’s why you and I get along so well. Folks like us should stick together. As house leader, I’ll do all I can to help you out. And we can start by making time for more little chats like this.”

Byriel’s thoughts scattered about like paper in the wind, “I-I’m fine with that, but you have to let me help you with whatever it is you’re trying to figure out.”

Claude looked doubtful, “You never told me the real reason why you want to help me.”

“Do I need a real reason?”

“Well, no, but…”

Byriel gave him a look, “Who says you’re the only one who can be curious about whatever secrets the monastery is keeping?”

Claude gave him that scheming look, “I don’t know, Teach. It’ll be a lot of work, meaning that you’ll be stuck spending whatever time you have with me going through all these dusty old books.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.”

Silence fell over the two, and Claude looked shocked.

“You’re completely serious…?”

“If you keep asking me that we’ll never get anything done,” Byriel stated, “Now if you don’t mind, I have some dusty old books to reread. We can talk more about this topic after my lecture on Saturday.”

That immediately caught Claude’s attention, “Lecture? You’re doing a lecture?”

“Yes,” Byriel nodded, “On Reason magic with Hanneman. It’s not mandatory, by the way, and it’s open to all classes. In fact, Edelgard expressed her interest in it when I brought it up to her.”

“Well, I’m going to go to it anyway, Teach,” Claude grinned, but there was a look in his eyes that Byriel had not seen before.

Determined fire, a blaze of conviction in those stunning green eyes.

The professor blinked, a bit surprised, “I don’t see why you would, you didn’t seem interested in learning it.”

“I want to understand the subject,” He stared at Byriel intently, which made the latter quickly look away.

“I-I see, well, good to see you’re interested in learning. I will see you later,” Before Claude could respond, he quickly left the room.

It wasn’t until Byriel made it all the way down the stairs that he suddenly felt like his body was burning from some kind of horrible fire in his skin that only grew worse at thinking about that scoundrel and his stupid smile. But still, he felt an element of excitement at the idea of putting some of his bookworm skills to good use. He already loved reading, so going through the dusty old pages wouldn’t be too hard.

_ I’ve done more difficult things than read an old word-salad book _.

He frowned, staring at the old cover. Hoping that, at least by doing this much, he could be useful in some way. He wasn’t as good with a sword as his sister was, but he liked to think that he was better when it came to more intelligence-based tasks.

Without that, he felt like he was pretty much useless.

Instinctively, Byriel ran a hand briefly over the back of his head. Feeling a long-healed scar just hidden beneath his dark hair that made him sick to his stomach thinking about. It had happened so long ago that the damage had long been healed, but it still made him uneasy remembering it.

He brushed aside all those thoughts, straightened, and walked on past guards and monks towards his room to begin the seemingly impossible search for the truth.

_ Though if that search is with Claude… _

Byriel shook his head and walked faster.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Felix

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“You want me to learn _ magic _?”

Byleth stared at Felix for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

It had been early in the morning, the young swordsman had gotten up early for training as per usual. Morning dew still slept on the blades of grass on the way to the training grounds, the sun hadn’t even completely woken up. Felix was used to getting up early, it was apart of his usual routine at this point. He had grabbed a sword and felt the weight in his hands, the comforting feeling of heavy metal made him feel more focused. He had found that if he hadn’t trained in the morning, he had a hard time focusing for the rest of the day.

But much to his surprise, and displeasure, Byleth had sought him out early in the morning. He wasn’t the most unpredictable, but he still found it annoying that she had decided to approach him in the middle of his training. He had been avoiding the guards recently, as they had been making him feel uneasy. It felt like everywhere he turned, he spotted one watching him. He knew it was their job but it still was unsettling. He knocked down a training dummy and looked back at her, scowling bitterly as she merely looked at him with her usual stoic expression, her dark eyes studying him carefully.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I think you have the potential for it, Felix,” Byleth went on, “I think I see the same potential in Sylvain and I see that in you too.”

He scoffed and looked back at the toppled over dummy, “I don’t need to waste my time learning something like magic. I can swing a sword, and that’s all I need.”

“Felix,” Byleth narrowed her gaze, “Have you ever tried to use it?”

“Yes, and I’m not good at it,” He snapped.

“Well, that’s why I’m here to teach you.”

Felix turned away, annoyed.

Byleth frowned and sighed a little, “I-I know it seems hard. My brother had the same thoughts you did when he first picked up the book to learn, and sometimes I can’t wrap my head around the equations. But if you just give it a chance, put time into it, you might find that it could save your life one day. You’re not the only one learning, mind you. I’m making sure everyone learns a little bit of magic. If anything, to know how to heal their wounds in case of an emergency.”

Felix wasn’t convinced. Why would he be? He was adept with using a sword, and that was what he wanted to stick with.

“Look, my brother and Hanneman are holding a seminar about it at the end of the week. All I ask is that you go to this seminar and see if you enjoy it.”

“Your _ brother _ is teaching it?” Felix raised an eyebrow.

“He’s very smart,” Byleth insisted, “I’ll be there too, mostly to hold his notes. That’s all I ask.”

Felix let out an annoyed groan, “Fine, but if this turns out to be a waste of my time, I'm going to be pissed off.”

She almost smiled, “Thank you.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Over the week, Felix tried to learn magic. Emphasize on _ tried _ anyway, he hated looking at notes for hours on end and had to rework his entire schedule to include practicing magic alongside sword practice. By the end, he could muster up a bolt of lightning and the basics of Thoron, the next spell on the list _ . _ Saturday came quickly, and Felix found that he wasn’t the only one attending the seminar. He saw that not only was his professor there but so was Sylvain, Annett, Lysithea, even a few members of the Black Eagles like Dorothea and Lindhart.

Much to Felix’s surprise, however, both Claude and Edelgard were seated in the front, giving each other looks. The swordsman frowned and watched them having a silent glare off at each other. These two didn’t even use magic and they were there.

Felix wondered if Byriel was honestly that popular with the other students.

Byriel Eisner stood at the front, squinting at a book behind his glasses. And Felix, who was sat next to Byleth, noticed the professor looking somewhat on edge. She tapped her fingers against the desk, staring blankly at the wall deep in thought. Felix had noticed that she did this often when she was thinking, even during class.

Then Felix realized why she seemed nervous, “Is this his first seminar?”

“Well, he’s _ taught _ magic before,” Byleth bit the inside of her cheek, “But yes, this is his first seminar.”

Felix was about to get up and leave, but Byleth grabbed his arm, “J-Just give him a minute.”

There seemed to be something heavier on her mind, but he didn’t want to interrogate her. It most likely had to do with the mission that month, that was already a nasty subject to talk about. For the time being, Felix decided to not ask.

The swordsman frowned, “Fine, but this better not be a waste of my time.”

He instead focused on the conversation of the room, listening closely and more specifically to the front where the two house leaders were. They definitely weren’t the type to get along, yet again neither was the boar with the two of them. The three of them were far too different, with unique ideals. He couldn’t imagine them getting along or agreeing on anything.

Edelgard frowned and narrowed her eyes at Claude, “You didn’t look like the type to be interested in learning magic. So much so you came to the front of the class.”

Claude winked, “I didn’t realize how interesting magic was. And besides, the view is great here.”

Byriel frowned, the gears turning in his head, “It’s just the blackboard, Claude.”

“It sure is.”

The Adrestrian princess got a glint in her eyes, a fire of determination, “Well, unlike you, I actually have a talent in Reason magic. I’ll surely outdo you.”

“Oh trust me,” Claude gave a sly look, “With ‘subject matter’ this interesting, I can’t help but try my hardest. Especially if it’ll impress Teach. Besides, he’s a master in this, right? I’m sure with his teaching skills I’ll pick it up quickly.”

Byriel stared at the book for another moment, only to throw it carelessly over his shoulder, “Alright, let’s wing it.”

Byleth slammed her face into her palm and Felix glared at the professor, immediately regretting that he ever agreed to this. Even Claude and Edelgard did a double-take.

What followed was an hour of Byriel explaining the fundamentals of magic but in his own way. Felix knew that Byriel was a bit weird, thus why he picked Golden Deer, but his ways of explaining magic and its properties likely made more sense to Byriel than it did to the rest of the group. Still, Felix could understand it. He was likely screwed if Byleth asked him to repeat the lesson later, but he could understand it.

Hanneman had his turn as well, and he talked about magic like an excited child. This slightly annoyed Felix, however, it was much more understandable than Byriel’s explanations.

"When you use magic, be careful not to put only half the effort into casting it," Hanneman explained, "Otherwise you could risk getting a rebound. Those can range from a nasty scar to potentially killing you from the inside out.”

Felix made a face, which Hanneman noticed. "Now, while it seems intimidating, magic is very useful! It's a force of nature and a part of us, and it can do many things! Sadly, we haven't expanded on its uses much over the centuries, but that's why I'm teaching you all now; so that one day maybe one of you can find more uses for it outside of war."

Lindhart noticeably frowned, “It is possible…”

"Why use magic other than the battlefield?" Felix muttered. "I don't think you can use lightning for much other than killing your enemies."

"Not necessarily!" Hanneman looked to Felix. "I once heard a story from a knight about how he watched another knight use the power of lightning to restart his dying friend’s heart!"

That immediately caught Felix’s attention.

"How the hell does that even work?" Sylvain raised an eyebrow, interest piquing.

"Well, you'd likely have to start building up the energy with a Thoron spell and send the bolt through points on the body to kick the heart back into gear," Hanneman looked deep in thought, "Of course, to do something like that would cause a rebound and likely be extremely painful. You could even kill yourself using it."

A lot of people looked amongst each other with weary looks.

“Did it work?” Claude asked. He had been so quiet that Felix completely forgot he was there.

It seemed he had been completely engrossed in Hanneman’s story, hanging onto his every single word.

Hanneman shrugged a bit, “I don’t know, I only heard it briefly. But I would imagine that there’s always the chance that it’d work. Still, I don’t recommend any of you trying it. Anyway, let’s get back to the lesson, shall we?”

After the lecture, the swordsman was still thinking about the story Hanneman had given, to the point where he was so distracted he didn’t notice Sylvain walk up to him. The red-head leaned over his desk with a fox-like grin, the smile etched in cleverness and charisma. When Felix finally noticed his presence and turned his head, he immediately was too close to his slightly opened up shirt, his collarbone visible.

“Using lightning to save someone?” Sylvain laughed a bit, “I’ll believe that the day Crests disappear.”

“Why are you here?” Felix glared at the ginger.

“I thought maybe we could go grab some food and then go pick up some girls!”

“Not interested. Goodbye.”

Sylvain grabbed his hand before he could stand up and leave, “Hey, before you go… Why do you look so stressed?”

“I’m not.” Felix snapped, his hand balling into a fist.

“You’ve looked stressed ever since you’ve come to the academy,” Sylvain put his other hand over Felix’s fist, “There are lines under your eyes, have you been sleeping?”

Sylvain’s concerned expression was genuine, his brows furrowed in worry. With a look like that, Felix felt his heart stop for a brief moment. He then scoffed and looked away.

“It’s stupid, so it’s nothing you should actually be concerned about.”

“What? Why would you think that?” Sylvain looked hurt, “Fe, I’m serious. Is something going on? You know you can rely on me, don’t you?”

The swordsman paused for a moment, then sighed, “... It feels like I’m being followed.”


	18. Chapter 17: Watching Eyes

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Seventeen⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Watching Eyes ⋅ ✦

* * *

Sylvain

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♞ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ It was on rare occasion that Felix ever talked about himself and nothing this serious. _ Normally, he would’ve called bullshit on it, but it was his favorite swordsman who had claimed he was being stalked. Felix didn’t joke, he was pretty sure that he had never learned how to. He had always taken Glenn seriously when he was younger and nowadays he got incredibly pissed when he or Alois told incredibly corny jokes.

“A stalker…?” Sylvain raised an eyebrow, following Felix through the Monastery to the gates and towards the marketplace, “It could just be a cute girl with a serious crush on you.”

Felix looked back at him, his brown eyes burning a glare through Sylvain’s skull, “Are women the only thing you think about?!”

“Of course I don’t just think about women!”

The swordsman wrinkled his nose, “Regardless, I know this isn’t an admirer.”

Sylvain made a face, “Then who would be stalking you if it’s not another student? And how would an intruder even get into the monastery without getting noticed by the guards?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s some enemy of my old man or someone who frequents the monastery,” Felix looked away, pushing a strand of raven-black hair away from his face in a frustrated gesture, “But I know I’m being followed. Weapons I put in racks that I look away from move, items I’ve lost appear on my desk, I see someone in the corner of my eye when I go to train despite whatever time it is.”

Sylvain instinctively took a glance around the place; nothing but the marketplace and passing travelers. If anyone was watching, they were very well hidden. Still, there was no way to tell for certain if someone was truly following them.

“How long has this been going on?”

“Ever since I stepped foot in the monastery.” 

“Wait seriously?!” Sylvain gaped, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?!”

Felix sighed, looking more tired than before. Sylvain wondered if he had slept decently since he arrived at the academy, “I didn’t want to say anything until I was confident I was being followed.”

Sylvain felt a pang of betrayal and guilt suddenly, “Fe, if you think someone is following you then you should tell someone!”

“I told you, didn’t I?”

“You know what I mean. Tell Seteth or the professor.”

Felix grunted, “With what proof? Things showing up on my desk and things moving around isn’t enough evidence. The professor shoves lost items in my face every other week, so they could easily say someone else just returned it. I know I’m being followed, but I can’t prove it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

The swordsman’s hands were shaking, “I can’t exactly describe it, but whatever it is, it isn’t kind. It’s a disgusting feeling similar to insects crawling on my skin, and I had the same feeling when Glenn died. I know something is wrong.”

Sylvain reached out his own and held them, something strong to hold on to. Felix slowly looked at him, his expression stoic but his eyes holding a look of paranoia.

“Nothing is going to happen to you, I can promise you that much,” Sylvain tried to reassure, though he wasn’t really someone qualified for that kind of sentiment. Still, this was his best friend. And even though they hadn’t seen each other in years, Felix was the one person that Sylvain knew he could rely on.

“You can’t keep a promise like that.” Felix threw back. However, he didn’t try to pull his hands away like he usually did.

Sylvain smiled a bit, “C’mon, I’ve got a good track record of keeping promises to you, don’t I?”

“Exactly one promise. Though that  _ is _ a record for you.”

The red-haired noble couldn’t help but burst out laughing, “Again with the verbal abuse! I guess some things don’t change, right Fe?”

Felix yanked his hands back, a scowl over his face.

“So, how about we go get something to eat? You look like you need a break.”

“I have training.”

Sylvain frowned, “You can’t skip it just this once?”

Felix tensed as if the idea were absolutely insane. 

“You’ll feel a lot better if you do.” Sylvain urged a bit.

“Not a chance.”

“It’ll be quick, I swear. I won’t even suggest that we pick up any girls this time!”

Felix opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. It looked like he didn’t have a clever comeback for this, especially since it was a sign of restraint that Sylvain wouldn’t attempt to pick up any girls in his presence.

Sylvain extended his arm, mimicking the gesture that knights were supposed to do for fair maidens, “Shall we?”

Felix walked past him, ignoring the gesture and giving him a look of annoyance, “I’ll destroy you if you don’t keep to that promise.”

“Works for me.”

The noble quickly followed after the swordsman, keeping even pace as much as he could while also occasionally glancing around for anyone remotely suspicious. However, he had no idea what to look for. He had only sometimes been stalked by desperate women trying to get his attention, and those he was able to easily cast aside. But a stalker with possibly malicious intent? He had no idea what that could look like.

After stopping by the dining hall to pick up some super-spicy fish dango, one of the only things that could be taken out of the dining hall with minimum mess and that they both liked, the two nobles walked back towards the training hall. Sylvain wanted to sit somewhere else, however, he felt that Felix would likely stick around longer if they were relatively close to the place that he spent the most time at.

There was no one around the training grounds except for a man with long, pale hair pulled back who wore a stark white mask over his face. As Sylvain and Felix walked off to the sidelines, the masked man stared at them silently for a moment before leaving the grounds completely through the doors.

“Who was that anyway?”

Felix gave Sylvain a look, “Professor Jeritza. He’s one of the swordsman instructors here. If you trained more, you would know that.”

Sylvain just gave a half-hearted shrug, “Can’t argue with that, I probably would know him if I spent more time around you. I mean, that’s something I want to do.”

That earned the noble another glare from Felix, “Quit joking around.”

“As you wish, Fe.” Sylvain gave him a wink.

The swordsman sat at a bench off to the sidelines, ignoring the gesture and quietly eating some of the dango they had brought.

“So,” Sylvain sat right next to his friend, “What’d you think of Hanneman’s story about the knight and the lightning?”

“It’s probably just something he made up,” Felix grumbled.

“Made up or not, magic is pretty powerful,” Sylvain chuckled, “Gotta admit, I’m pretty interested in learning Reason magic now. You?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

Felix glowered, “I was taught how to use a sword from the moment I could stand, there’s no need for me to learn magic.”

“Not even Faith magic?” Sylvain asked, “I mean, the professor mentioned wanting us to learn that stuff.”

“Not even Faith magic,” Felix made a face that almost looked like he just tasted something sour, “I can swing a sword, and that’s all I need to know.”

“Fair enough,” Sylvain took a bite of spicy dango, “At least you’re the best at that.”

“And you’re best at slacking off.”

“Too true!” Sylvain chuckled.

Felix rolled his eyes, “That wasn’t meant to be a compliment, Sylvain.”

The taller noble probably should’ve felt insulted, however when it came to Felix he was used to the verbal abuse and insults. Besides, he didn’t mind so much as Felix had said significantly worse things to him when they were children. But even then, it was a small relief to Sylvain. It meant that Felix was honest with him, not like his parents or the other shallow women who threw themselves at him.

If there was one person Sylvain could count on to tell him exactly the truth, it was Felix Hugo Fraldarius. Which is why it was even more troubling to hear that his old friend had the feeling as if he were being followed.

“So you think whoever this creep is has been following you around since you got here?” Sylvain asked.

Felix sighed a bit, frustrated, “I can’t be sure it’s been ever since I arrived here, but something along those lines.”

“That’s really creepy,” Sylvain cringed at the thought, “But I don’t get why someone would spend several months following a person around. I mean, what’s to gain from wasting that much time doing essentially nothing?”

“I don’t know either, and I certainly don’t want to know the reason behind it. Maybe they’re waiting for the right opportunity or maybe they’re just insane,” The swordsman glowered at his dango, “It doesn’t matter anyway. When I figure out who it is, I’ll destroy them.”

“When did you get so scary?” Sylvain said, half-jokingly.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m just saying that I remember you being so meek and pure when we were younger. Cute even… like a baby brother.”

Felix turned that glare towards Sylvain, “Shut up.”

Sylvain grinned a little, “You know I’m right.”

“I already told you before, I don’t want to talk about this so drop it.”

“Why not?”

“There’s nothing to gain reminiscing on the past like this,” Felix said, harshly.

“It’s still nice to think back on, Fe.” Sylvain frowned a little.

“Not for me it isn’t,” The swordsman shook his head, “It doesn’t matter what I was like back then. That was the past and this is the present, so let’s just move on.”

The taller noble sighed a little, “Sorry you don’t feel that way.”

“It’s not that I  _ hate  _ those memories,” Felix gave Sylvain a look, “There’s just no point dwelling on it.”

“I think there is. At least, a little bit.” Sylvain shrugged a bit, “It’s nice to remember when you used to follow me around everywhere. You used to be so carefree and happy back then. I miss seeing you smile like you used to, that’s all.”

The swordsman turned his face away sharply. Though for a moment, Sylvain could’ve sworn he thought he saw that the swordsman’s face flustered a bit.

Felix scoffed, “Do you say that to every girl you try to date?”

Sylvain gave him a wink, “Nope, just you.”

That just made the swordsman grimace, “Will you stop kidding around?!”

Sylvain burst out laughing.

“You insatiable-!” Felix stood up quickly and started to walk away.

“Wait, Felix, I’m sorry!” Sylvain followed suit, running up to the swordsman before he could leave the training grounds.

The swordsman looked back at the noble, narrowing his eyes, “Is that a genuine apology?”

“Of course, why would I apologize if I didn’t mean it?”

Felix looked at him for a moment and then sighed, “I suppose you’ve never lied about things like that.”

“Never with you.”

The swordsman shook his head, “You idiot… ”

“Says the guy who’s always been by that idiot’s side!” Sylvain smiled a bit.

Felix rolled his eyes, but he seemed happier, even if he didn’t smile. His eyes were more alight than usual, better than they were before. The fire in them glinted brighter once again, a fire that made Sylvain’s heart burn. It was a feeling he didn’t experience with anyone else except Felix, something that made him want to protect the one person that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EldritchGremlin: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Sorry for the short chapter, please enjoy the Sylvix though :>


	19. Chapter 18: The Sun Above & The Darkness Below

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EldritchGremlin: Hello hello! There will be spoilers for Cindered Shadows in this fic to come :> And there is a small spoiler in this chapter as well for Yuri's supports!

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Eighteen ꧂

✦ ⋅ The Sun Above & The Darkness Below ⋅ ✦

* * *

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

6/9

Garland Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Admittedly, Byleth was afraid that most of the students would walk out on her brother’s reason magic lecture _. Or that Hanneman would have to step in and steer the seminar back on track. However, she was both surprised and glad to see that everyone, even her own students Annette and Mercedes, were still talking about what her brother discussed two days later.

“Your brother is really fun to listen to, professor!” Annette said with excitement the moment the two met up for the usual one-on-one tutoring.

She nodded, “He’s a character.”

“He seems so smart…” Annette looked determined, “Do you think I could ask him about a few things regarding this one spell later?”

“Which one?”

The eager student held out her own book, pointing to one of the passages detailing how to cast Sagittae.

“A-Already?” Byleth was stunned that the girl had already started reading so far ahead when she hadn’t even perfected the Cutting Gale spell. Then again, Annette was one of Byleth’s most attentive students and, more often than not, read ahead of where the professor was at in terms of magic.

“Sorry, just listening to the lecture and the story about the lightning saving someone really inspired me to keep reading ahead,” Annette explained.

“That’s fine, you’re more than welcome to read ahead a bit,” Byleth reassured, “But don’t forget what Hanneman said about rebounds; using magic like that can be very dangerous. Just please, be careful with how much you decide to try at once. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be careful, I promise, professor!” The aspiring magic-user smiled brightly.

Byleth nodded, “Good. Now, I’ll talk to you after the lesson.”

“Right!” Annette marked the page in her book and walked back to her seat behind Felix, who was looking bored.

At this point, the majority of the Blue Lions were beginning to show up for the morning’s lesson. Everyone took their seats, and after a brief glimpse over the sea of faces, she knew everyone was present.

Or at least, that’s what she thought at first. Then she saw the empty spot where Ashe should’ve been next to Dedue.

“Has anyone seen Ashe today?” Byleth asked.

The other students looked at the empty seat with confused and concerned faces. 

“I haven’t seen him since yesterday… ” Ingrid frowned, her expression lined with worry.

“Maybe he’s sick?” Sylvain asked.

“Oh dear… I hope he’s alright.” Mercedes held her hands together, looking troubled.

Immediately, the professor felt a weight in her lungs. She wasn’t surprised that the archer wasn’t present, but it was still concerning. Especially knowing what was to come in the following month, and that this was proof that Ashe knew what was to come soon.

“I can go by his room to see how he’s doing, professor.” Dimitri offered.

Before she could give an answer, the doors to the classroom opened and the missing student in question stepped into the room.

“Ashe, you made it!” Annette gasped, looking relieved to see the archer.

“I’m sorry I’m so late, professor,” Ashe practically mumbled the words, “I wasn’t able to sleep last night and…”

Byleth shook her head, “It’s alright, I understand. Go and take your seat, okay?”

The silver-haired boy nodded, taking his seat next to Dedue. The Duscur man gave him a brief glimpse, the concern not as obvious but still present, then turned his attention back to the front. Even Ingrid, who was directly behind the archer, lingered before turning her gaze to Byleth.

The young professor felt as if she should’ve said something, but her mind drew a blank. Byleth pressed her lips together and turned to the class, hoping that Ashe would be able to withstand what she was about to say, “Alright, today we’re going to focus on tactics for differing weather. This month we, along with the Golden Deer and Black Eagle classes, have been tasked with putting down a rebellion led by Lord Lonato of Castle Gaspard.”

Felix noticeably went tense while Dimitri’s posture grew still. Ashe ducked his head, saying nothing while the rest of the class looked confused.

“Most of the rebellion will be taken care of by the knights, so we are only putting down the aftermath.”

“Why would Lord Lonato raise arms against the church?” Mercedes asked.

“I’m not sure,” Byleth shook her head, “However, at this point, we are past any hopes of making peace. We’re only meant to deal with the aftermath, and we will be aided by the knight Catherine. I want you all to study and train hard for this, war zones can be very unpredictable and I don’t want to see anyone getting hurt.”

“Are you sure there’s no other way?” Ashe suddenly spoke up, looking desperate.

Everyone watched him, all of them familiar with who Lord Lonato was to Ashe, but no one knew what to say.

“I’m sorry, Ashe,” Byleth shook her head, “If there was another way, the mission would be very different.”

The silver-haired archer looked distraught, and it hurt to know that there wasn’t anything Byleth, or anyone really, could do to make it any less painful.

“For now, let’s focus on our lesson for today,” Byleth walked behind her desk and placed her glasses in front of her eyes, “If there are any questions regarding the mission, you can bring them up to me at the end of class.”

No one argued or said anything else. So without waiting for anyone to come up with anything, Byleth began the lecture on tactics in different weather and terrain and other various things.

For the most part, everyone was attentive as usual. Even Ashe, as upset as he was over Lord Lonato as he was, did his best to pay attention. Still, during the one-on-one session, he was a bit slower to pick up information than usual, she noticed.

“Your smaller frame and speed tells me that we should focus you more on bows,” Byleth explained, “I think that the sniper certification is something you should study the most for.”

“I understand,” Ashe nodded quietly.

Byleth felt a weight in her chest, “Ashe, I know this is hard for you but-”

“Please, professor, there must be some kind of mistake,” Ashe suddenly blurted, “Lord Lonato would never raise arms against the church! At least, he never said anything to me about it.”

“Have the knights questioned you?” Byleth asked.

Ashe nodded, “Alois and a few other knights asked me yesterday if I knew anything, but I don’t.”

“Lonato probably kept it a secret on purpose then,” Byleth explained, “Ashe, I’m sorry that things are this way, but I don’t think we can resolve this any other way.”

The silver-haired boy looked away, his pale green eyes lined with sorrow, “Professor, Lord Lonato saved my life. He saved the lives of me and my siblings. This isn’t like him.”

“Siblings?”

“I have two younger siblings, and we would’ve died without Lord Lonato stepping in to save us. He’s a father to us…”

Byleth felt that weight grow heavier, “Are your siblings alright, Ashe?”

“They’re fine,” the archer nodded, “The knights said no harm would come to them. But professor, none of this makes sense to me. Lord Lonato isn’t-” He struggled for words, his hands trembling.

“Ashe,” Byleth touched his shoulders in an attempt to steady him, “I know you’re confused and upset over this, but there isn’t anything we can do otherwise. I wish there was, but there isn’t.”

The silver-haired boy stared at her, then he hung his head, “Why… why is this happening?”

“I know this is hard,” Byleth frowned, using the tone she used when she needed to comfort her brother when he was upset, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. But I want you to remember that we are here right by you. If you need anything at all, you can come to me or any of your fellow classmates.”

Ashe said nothing, and Byleth let his shoulders go. The silver-haired boy shook his head, “I’m sorry I’m not as focused as I should be, professor. I… Is it alright to talk about my fighting later?”

She nodded, “Yes, we can pick this up tomorrow morning. For now, I want you to get something to eat and get some rest tonight. Alright?”

“Right…”

Byleth watched the archer leave the room, not saying anything else as he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. That just left Byleth alone in the Blue Lion’s classroom, the space quiet except for the fireplace.

She sighed, packed up her notes and books from the day, and left the room herself with the means of grabbing something to eat with her brother before they were to give the afternoon lesson to the Black Eagles. Still, all the while she walked, her mind raced with all the concerns over Ashe and how he was going to be when it came time for the actual mission.

Byleth and her family had never had to put down a rebellion before, but Jeralt had had to deal with mercenaries who had turned against him for various reasons in the past. The man had said that in those situations, you had to put any personal feelings you once had aside for the sake of the rest. After all, it was their decision to turn their swords against the people who once trusted them, and personal feelings could be used as a deadly weapon.

Eventually, Byleth made it to the dining hall and looked for her brother. She smiled a bit to herself seeing that her twin was at a table with Hubert again, both of them likely drinking coffee. But unlike before, they were also joined by Ferdinand.

“If I’m not mistaken, that would be coffee from Dagda?”

Byriel nodded, “It is.”

“I do not care for it myself…” Ferdinand commented.

“More for us then.”

Hubert nodded and took a sip of his own coffee, “You are correct in that statement, professor.”

Byleth considered joining the three, but she decided that perhaps there was no harm in letting Byriel continue on his own. It hurt to pull away considering that they always ate together, but she also didn’t want to hurt any chances of him making friends. So leaving Byriel to his own devices, Byleth picked up an order of fish sandwiches and sautéed jerky for later and walked outside to eat outside by the monastery’s pond.

She decided to sit on the steps closest to the pond and watch the people walk amidst the monastery while she took small bites at her sandwich. The spring air was warm and inviting, so much so that Byleth wondered why more people didn’t come outside to eat. There was something so restricting being inside all day teaching and reading when one could do all of those same things outside.

While debating on whether or not to try and catch a few fish and finishing off the last sandwich, Byleth felt something yank at her cloak pocket. She let out a yelp, almost choking on the fish and cabbage in the sandwich, as she jumped up and took a few steps back up the stairs to face down whatever beast had decided to attack her.

A black, white and orange-spotted dog was sitting at the base of the stairs, wagging its tail and chewing on a strip of jerky it had smuggled from Byleth’s pocket.

She blinked, immediately relaxing as she watched the stray dog scarf down the food. The dogs at the monastery had never approached her before, and they had usually run off whenever she tried to walk closer. Yet this one appeared to be braver than the rest, and it looked at her with large brown eyes, silently asking for more.

The mercenary slowly reached into her cloak’s pocket and withdrew two pieces of jerky. One piece she bit into, and the other she threw at the ground by the dog’s feet. The hound barked triumphantly, eating down the dried meat as if he had never had food before faster than it took Byleth to eat her own.

“He seems to like you, professor!”

Byleth craned her head to see Dimitri standing at the top of the staircase, looking down at the professor and her newly made friend. The dog barked once he saw Dimitri and immediately ran up the stairs by the prince’s side, sitting right next to him.

“Is he your dog?”

“I believe all of the cats and dogs here are strays,” Dimitri explained, giving the hound a short scratch behind its ears, “But this one started following me when I fed it once.”

“Huh,” Byleth squinted a bit, “Seems like it doesn’t take too much to befriend this one.”

At that, the hound darted down the stairs and up to Byleth’s side, looking at her with large brown eyes.

Byleth hesitated, remembering the unfriendly hunting dogs that some of the mercenaries in Jeralt’s band had by their sides and how they would growl and snap at her if she got too close.

The prince walked down the stairs, standing next to Byleth, “Let him smell the back of your hand, Professor. He won’t bite if you let him get used to you.”

Cautiously, Byleth extended a hand to the dog, fully prepared to pull it back in case it tried to bite her. Instead, the dog licked her fingers in a friendly manner and let the professor rub the back of its head briefly before it let out another bark and ran off towards the direction of the marketplace.

Byleth watched after the dog, eyes wide with surprise, “It… It didn’t bite me.”

Dimitri gave her a concerned look, “Are you afraid of dogs, Professor?”

“No, I’m not afraid of dogs,” She explained, “The mercenaries we had would sometimes have hunting dogs. But they weren’t the friendly type and I tried to avoid them.”

“Ah, I see,” Dimitri nodded in understanding, “Well, the dogs that linger around the monastery are usually very friendly. You don’t have to worry about them biting you, Professor.”

Byleth tilted her head a bit, “Do you spend a lot of time with them? The dogs, I mean?”

Dimitri laughed, “Not really, but sometimes I will take extra scraps from the kitchen to give to the ones that wait around the knight’s hall.”

The professor was a bit surprised to hear the statement from the prince. Though it did seem like something he’d likely do.

_ Cute… _

“Are you waiting for someone, Professor?” He asked, “You’re not usually by yourself like this.”

“Oh, no, I’m not waiting for anyone…” Byleth looked a bit to the ground, “It’s just so warm out that I wanted to spend a little more time outside before going back…”

Dimitri smiled a bit, “It appears I’m not the only one then.”

“You too?” Byleth asked, surprised.

“I thought I’d walk around the monastery before going back,” He explained, “There’s just a lot on my mind, is all.”

Byleth felt her throat tighten and, as if someone else had taken her voice for a moment, she spoke up, “Do you need someone to talk to?”

Silence fell over the two, and immediately Byleth regretted bringing those words to the surface at Dimitri’s confused expression.

“T-That’s-” Her words stumbled a bit, fading more and more she spoke, “I-I know you never got the chance to show me around the monastery and…”

The prince suddenly smiled at her, “I’d be more than happy to have your company, Professor!”

Her eyes widened, “Y-You don’t mind?”

“Of course not, if you will consent that is.” He assured, looking hopeful.

Byleth briefly debated on backing out of the suggestion, and even more so on possibly using Divine Pulse to fix it, but she decided against the overreaction. Especially not when the prince looked at her so hopeful.

She hadn’t noticed before, but he seemed so lonely now.

“It’s fine,” Byleth nodded, walking by his side, “I’ll follow your lead.”

The prince’s face lit up, “Excellent!”

Dimitri began to walk in the direction of the marketplace, though he slowed his pace enough for Byleth to keep up. Her nerves felt jumpy and that she was going to collapse at the prospect of spending time with the prince alone, but she had no idea why. The prince had been kind to her, and yet her thoughts were scattered to a point where her throat felt tight enough that she couldn’t even speak.

However, walking next to the prince, he didn’t try to press her to talk more than she was comfortable with. The prince was a bit quiet himself, only occasionally pointing out things of note to Byleth. Things like the groups of cats scattered about the monastery and the view from the bridge to the cathedral.

It was nice, actually. It felt nice to be with Dimitri like this.

As the two walked up a short flight of stairs along the side of the cathedral, Byleth immediately noticed a tall, ivy coated tower that, at first, seemed like it had a huge tree growing out of it.

“What’s that building?” Byleth asked.

Dimitri looked in the direction, “Ah, that’s the Goddess Tower. It’s only open once a year at the end of the Ethereal Moon.”

“The Goddess Tower,” The professor stared up at the grand tower, “I wonder what the view is like up there.”

The prince chuckled a bit.

“What’s so funny?” She asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Dimitri looked to her, “You just have very interesting responses, Professor.”

“Interesting? Is that a bad thing?”

The prince shook his head with a soft laugh, “No, not at all. I find it enjoyable.”

The professor felt her cheeks suddenly burning, along with the impulse to run away again. She turned her gaze to the ground, "I-I... I'm glad..."

Dimitri seemed a bit confused, "Are you alright, Professor?"

"I'm fine," She straightened, coughing a little bit, "I-I'm not exactly someone people go to for conversations..."

"Neither am I," He admitted, "I'm set to become king, but I never know if I'm saying what needs to be said, or if I'm making something worse."

"I don't think that of you," Byleth shook her head, "You're more of a leader than I could be."

"You're the reason we made it through the Red Canyon. Both you and your brother. Things could've been much worse without you both, and I know we'll be able to get through this upcoming month with both of you by our sides."

"Right... the rebellion." Byleth hung her head a little, "Why would Lord Lonato do this, you think?"

"Doubtless, there are times when one must take up their blade, even if there's no chance of winning. But this? It's downright senseless. Lord Lonato knows better," Dimitri looked deeply thoughtful, "If he had enough allies to back his rebellion, it would be a different matter."

"What do you mean?"

The prince straightened, coming back to the present, "Ah, my apologies. I was just thinking aloud. This whole situation is a bit too strange for my liking. Even with the necessary preparations in place, there is always a chance that something unexpected will occur. Please be ready for anything, Professor."

"Ashe..." Byleth frowned a little, that same weight returning to her.

Dimitri looked saddened, "I've been worried about him as well."

"I hate how there's so little I can do," Byleth admitted, "I hate that one of my students is suffering like this and that I can't do anything about it."

Those words brought a bitter taste to her tongue, the feeling of being helpless and unable to act. Being unable to do anything for the people who needed her.

"Professor," The prince stepped closer to Byleth, close enough for her to almost feel the warmth from him, his eyes lined with concern and understanding.

"Dimitri?"

The prince struggled for words for a moment, "You are not alone in this frustration, Professor. I know what you are feeling, and I am with you in this."

She felt her throat tighten, along with the thought of running away again. But at the same time, she was comforted by the prince's kind presence.

Odd... only her family had been able to do that.

Dimitri straightened, "I-I apologize, I shouldn't have-"

"No," she shook her head, "I'm glad you said that and... I'm glad to have you and the rest of the Blue Lions."

Dimitri smiled a little, "I'm glad we have you as our professor as well, By- er, Professor."

Byleth made a face, "You can call me by my name, you know."

"You're my professor, so I intend to address you with that much respect."

She smirked a little, "I'll get you to call me by name at some point."

The bells rang out, and the two looked back in the direction they came from.

"I suppose we should head back. Right, Professor?" Dimitri asked.

Byleth slowly looked back at the tower, a soft smile reaching her lips as she walked beside him.

"R-Right..."

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Yuri

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Everything needs to have a dark side. The closer something is to the sun, the bigger its shadow is. That was true, especially for Garreg Mach Monastery. For something so glistening, something towering and bathing in the golden light of the sun, its underbelly was crawling with criminals and outcasts. Priests and monks truly believed that a place like Abyss needed to exist, something to balance out the light.

Yuri wondered if Lady Rhea thought the same, but when he asked she didn’t give him an answer.

But he refused to let the fact he wasn’t able to get much out of her discourage him. It was trivial anyway. Garreg Mach was dark as he carefully made his way from the stairs and into the dining hall. Despite evening lazily rolling in, it was still far brighter than the Abyss. It almost hurt his eyes, that the surface was so bright even under the moon. But he felt no jealousy, he belonged in the dark with the rest of the Abyssians. He preferred it even. He would much rather be in a place where people acted the way they truly were, however bad they are, than hiding behind fragile facades.

It was nicer to be stabbed in the front instead of in the back.

As he walked in the old dining hall, the smell of old wood and stone permeating his senses as he dragged his fingertips along the tables, he had noticed a slight sound. A small _ yelp _. He slowly turned his head to where it had come from, narrowing his eyes as he looked for the source. It didn’t take him long to notice the messy heather-colored hair and a pair of eyes that were looking at him in wide terror.

The two of them stared at each other for a solid minute, one clearly terrified and the other shocked to the bone. He knew Bernadetta. They had known each other long ago. But before Yuri could react, however, the girl screamed and ducked beneath the table, wailing loudly.

“I k-know Lysithea and Ashe said that the dining hall was scary at night, I j-just didn’t expect to actually find a ghooooooooost!” Bernadetta sobbed, quickly sinking into the hood of her hoodie.

It was at that moment that Yuri made the executive decision to book it back to the Abyss. It would be better if she thought he _ was _a ghost instead of telling everyone that she saw a student in a strange uniform that she had never spotted before in the dining hall or even worse, recognizing him. He quickly ran out of the building and into the dormitory area for the commoners. He ran to the end as quietly as he could and to the opening of the alleyway that had the opening to the Abyss.

He was rather confident that the room at the end of the dormitories, the one closest to Abyss, belonged to one of the new professors he had heard about, but he had never run into them when he was snuck in and out of Abyss to meet with Rhea, gather supplies, or deal with various types of shady business with other gangs and criminals. While Yuri was intrigued at the prospect of meeting the two newest and talked about professors, he was also reluctant. Considering they worked for the monastery, they might have inclinations to purge the Abyss. It was better to not trust professors from the surface, at least for the time being.

Placing his hand upon the stone, the walls shifted. The bricks pulled back, magical mechanisms slowly revealing the hidden passage into the darkness, into Abyss. Yuri pulled his hand back and briskly walked in, making sure it closed behind him before continuing onward. The sconces were lit, projecting light to fight off the shadows so one could walk without being blinded in the pitch-black underground passageways. The floor outside of the Shadow Library entryway flickered pale blue, reflected the ghostly lights of the room as he walked and then took a sharp left.

He walked onward, rather quickly coming upon the underground market. Men in tattered clothes and women in dingy armor yelled and talked, deals being thrown left and right along with suspicious items that few respectable surface merchants would have. It was a bustling place, filled with so much chatter that few wouldn’t expect a place so _ alive _to be buried more than six feet under. Market stalls packed to the brim with strange and viscous fluids bubbled, tables filled with sharpened and cruel blades, suspicious battalions waiting to be hired by outlawed mercenaries and gangs, and various mystery fruits and vegetables that were in foreboding colors to be made into things to help allies and harm enemies were some of the few things we noticed were for sale.

While the prospect of weaponry and dangerous potions were promising, the trickster had no interest at the moment. He simply wanted to talk to the fellow members of his underground house and then be off to bed, as he had things to deal with the day after. Tomorrow, however, he would have uses for such cruel items, after all, he hated traitors in his gang and there was one that had shoved him into the dirt and made him bleed. He needed to show them he was not a figure to be trifled with, after all.

Yuri continued on his way, descending down the stairs and then across a bridge that was set over one of the many canals of water that ran through the abyss. The golden light of the sconces flicked on the dim water, it splashing up occasionally as the water quickly and harshly rushed down from above. He had warned the orphans many times before to not play by the water, as they might be lost forever if they fell in considering how fast the current was and where it was going. He was a scoundrel, but he did care. The people in Abyss had no one above, so everyone relied on each other down below. It was like a family or a close-knit town, and Yuri was determined to keep everyone safe.

He might have to talk to someone about making the barriers on the bridges a little higher, just in case.

He continued going straight and then took the first left, arriving into the Ashen Wolves classroom. It was a mess, to say the least, wooden rafters had fallen to the ground but pushed to the bookshelves that were bordered around the room to make room for the desks. An old chalkboard had been put in the front of the room, despite the lack of a professor. Aelfric, the cardinal who looked over the Abyss, occasionally taught lessons, but most of the time they were left to their own devices. It was easy to spot his fellow Abyssian students, talking and looking over books of magic.

“You’re back, I kinda thought you got captured or something,” Despite his words, Balthus grinned, “But looks like you didn’t run into any trouble.”

“I appreciate the confidence you have in me,” Yuri smirked, walking to the chalkboard where the large man was.

Balthus was considerably taller than Yuri and far bigger than him in general. With his jacket wide open, his abs and muscles were on full display for anyone who happened to glance at him. He had a face of sharp, chiseled features, with messy black hair that was brushed back. He grinned and watched Yuri pick up a book from a desk and examine it with scrutiny.

“Not gonna lie, pal, you seem shaken.”

“Shaken?” The leader of the Ashen Wolves laughed, “Maybe. I saw someone from my past, but that’s all I’m getting into it.”

Balthus made a face but didn’t push it further. Instead, he brought up a different topic, “I heard those new professors took care of some bandits recently.”

“Yes, they seem rather skilled,” Yuri felt the weight of the book, opening it to the page it was marked on, “I heard whispers of them, even down here in Abyss. It seems they’ve really shaken up Garreg Mach to its core.”

“You seem kinda interested in them yourself, Yuri,” the brawler pushed his brows together.

The trickster slowly smirked once again, closing the book again.


	20. Chapter 19: Mutiny in the Mist

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Nineteen ꧂

✦ ⋅ Mutiny in the Mist ⋅ ✦

* * *

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

Imperial Year 1173

Ashe

╚═════════ ∘◦ ➴ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Ashe had once gotten caught twice on the same day. _

The first time was by a merchant selling freshly baked bread in the furthest market booth lining the streets. It was perfectly out of sight from other passing commoners and guards, and the merchant had been too absorbed in trying to convince anyone who looked his way to step closer. So busy that he didn’t even see the then ten-year-old child crouching behind a few crates and slowly make his way behind stacked wares and barrels and under the table where he knew the merchant had hidden a box filled with gold coins.

He had been careful, only putting enough in his pockets that he could easily escape with, but the smell of fresh bread made his stomach growl. Ashe hadn’t eaten in days, having given any scrap of food he could find to his siblings to eat first, and it was only one loaf of bread. Surely, it was okay to take it if it meant it could feed all three of them for one night? His siblings hadn’t had fresh bread in so long, and they deserved to eat something warm.

Big mistake. Stealing bread was different from taking a few coins, and the merchant immediately spotted Ashe the minute he tried to get away and pursued him all while yelling at the top of his lungs. The thief ran as fast as he could, sprinting through the narrow alleys and cobblestone streets without looking back. But he was still just a kid, barely ten years old and low on energy, and soon enough Ashe felt a large, meaty hand grab him by the shoulder harshly and pull his arm behind his back.

“Gotcha ya little dastard!” He snarled.

Ashe cried out, trying to pull away, “L-Let go!”

“Filthy thief, you think you can steal from me and get away with it?!”

The boy felt the merchant grab at the bread in Ashe’s other hand. The boy fought, “N-No-!”

“I’ll cut those sinning hands off if you don’t let go!”

“I-I need this, please-!”

_ Smack _ .

Suddenly Ashe’s vision went a burning white and red and he let go of the bread, collapsing into a puddle of drain water, his cheek screaming in pain and the coins he had stolen spilling out onto the ground. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. He desperately covered his head and organs as the merchant slammed kick after kick into the boy, hitting Ashe in the legs, shoulders, and the side. Even getting him in the face once, causing the boy to cry out in pain.

Finally, the merchant picks up the loot stolen from him, and he spits at Ashe’s fallen form, “Thieving scum… if I ever see you again, I’ll have you horsewhipped!”

And with that, he turned and walked away. Leaving Ashe to crawl back to his hands and knees. His body and eye hurt, and briefly licking at his chapped lips he could taste blood. He desperately scrounged the area to find any coins that had been missed, but the only ones left behind weren’t even enough to fill one of his small hands.

Ashe couldn’t hold back the tears as he got back to his feet, slowly limping his way out of the alley and down the streets. No one even looked at him, no one bothered to ask if he was okay or not. All he could do was make his way back to the rundown, abandoned shack that had become their family’s sanctuary.

He made sure to dry his tears and put on a smile as he crawled in through one of the broken windows, “I’m back.”

“Welcome home, big brother,” His sister Juniper greeted, though she didn’t look at him as he entered. She sat at a dusty old table illuminated only by a well-worn candle, her fingers working tirelessly as she sewed together torn pieces of clothing and fabric to sell for what little coin they could get. Her lime green eyes finally looked up from the work and went wide at the sight of Ashe’s bruises, “Wh-What happened to you?!”

“O-Oh, I just got in a bit of a fight with a merchant…” Ashe shook his head, “Don’t worry about that please…”

Juniper grew distraught, “Ashe, you look really hurt.”

The boy frowned, wanting to cry again at the memory of the brutal beating, but he held back. He couldn’t cry, not when he had to be the strong one. He had to be the brave one, it’s what their parents had asked of him in their weakened, fever-struck and pale states before they both fell asleep, only to never wake up again.

Thinking of it now brought on bigger worries to focus on. Ashe walked to the other end of their hideout, where two dusty mattresses lay on the floor covered in moth-eaten blankets. Sleeping on one of them was the youngest out of the three, Rowan, and a quick check to the boy’s forehead made Ashe’s heart pound in anxiety. The boy had started coughing just a few days before, and the night previously he had gotten a fever that hadn’t broken. Silvery hair clung to the boy’s face, dripping in sweat and pale as a ghost.

“Has he eaten anything?”

Juniper walked behind Ashe, bare and dirty feet making the rotting floorboards creak in protest, “N-No… he drank a little bit of water, but he won’t touch anything else.”

Ashe bit the inside of his cheek, quickly looking to his sister, “At least he’s still drinking water. Here, I’ll make us something to eat.”

“Let me do it, you’re hurt,” Juniper protested.

“You need to take a break, and these bruises will heal,” He smiled at her, “Thank you for doing such a good job watching him.”

Juniper frowned, scrunching her freckle-specked nose in response, “I feel like I didn’t do anything.”

Rowan let out a cough, speaking up all of a sudden, “Big brother… you’re back.”

Ashe kept smiling, crouching close to his baby brother and brushing away a few strands of hair, “Hey, how are you feeling? Do you want something to eat?”

The boy shook his head, “I’m not hungry…”

Ashe felt his stomach drop in response, knowing that this disease was getting worse. They didn’t have enough money to buy medicine, not even enough to buy real food. The three of them were so painfully thin and hungry, but there was no one who would care to help them.

“Ashe…” Rowan looked up to his older brother, his eyes the same color as Ashe’s and so painfully innocent and unaware of how afraid his siblings were, “Can you tell me a story? The one mama told us?”

“I can, but you need to eat first,” Ashe kept up the hollow smile, “Can you promise me that?”

Rowan nodded, looking so weak as Ashe tried to make something with whatever vegetables weren’t rotten. Ultimately it created a soup that was more water than food, a shadow of a recipe his family used to make, but Rowan kept to his promise and ate every spoonful Ashe fed him.

“Here, give me your coat,” Juniper held her hand out to him, “I can at least patch up the holes so you won’t be cold.”

“It’s alright, Junie, I can do that.”

She shook her head, “I’m doing it for free.”

He laughed a bit, taking off the grey, tattered jacket he had been wearing and handing it over to his sister. However, he couldn’t help but stare at her fingers; bandaged and calloused. She retreated back to the table the moment she had his coat and went back to her work.

It had only been five months since their parents had died from a disease outbreak, but they were already struggling to survive. No one wanted to hire Ashe, or at least pay him enough to support his two siblings. Juniper would sew ripped clothing for whatever pay people would give her, staying up all hours of the night by candlelight or by the lamps outside, pulling a thread through the fabric of dresses and shirts until her fingers were sore, calloused, and bleeding.

Ashe had to steal, it was the only option he had. But now, even that was failing him. He needed to get his hands on something, just enough to buy medicine for Rowan and food for the two of them. He didn’t care if he died in turn, he just had to make sure they survived somehow.

“Big brother…” Rowan whined a bit, “You promised…”

“I know,” Ashe knelt down next to his brother again, “Which story did you want?”

His baby brother made a face, thinking intently, “The one about the knight and the owl.”

Ashe nodded, sitting by his little brother’s side, “Alright then…”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

6/30

Garland Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ The day the three houses were set to leave for Magdred Way was grey and foggy. _ While Byleth didn’t usually get cold, this morning proved to be a rare exception and she woke up feeling chilled despite her brother letting her keep half of the blankets the previous night.

“By, I’m borrowing one of your shirts.” She announced, digging through one of his drawers for some spare articles of clothing.

Byriel let out a whine of indifference, turning back over in his bed and trying to go back asleep while his sister found a shirt that fit her best and tucked it under her arm. After making sure he was getting up and dressed, Byleth walked back to her own room with the borrowed clothing and worked to make the somewhat too big shirt work with what she usually preferred to wear on a daily basis.

If there was one perk to her brother now being so much taller than her, it was that most of his clothes were likely to fit Byleth with enough adjusting. With enough fidgeting, she had something that was acceptable for combat and walking around. She would’ve worn her usual clothes, but the chill in the air didn’t seem like it was going away any time soon. Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t borrowed clothes from her brother before; the two pretty much dressed the same when they were children, as it was less of a hassle to buy different clothes up until the twins were teenagers.

After waiting for Byriel to leave his room, the two made their way to the dining hall. Byleth frowned at the fog surrounding the monastery, “Do you think it will clear up soon?”

Byriel squinted, “I hope so…”

As they entered the dining hall, the two spotted their father talking to one of the knights briefly. When the knight left, Jeralt sighed in frustration, “Good grief, this weather could be problematic.”

The twins approached the older knight, and he turned to them with a serious expression, “Alright, both of you, remember what I taught you about fighting in weather like this?”

“Advance with caution,” Byleth repeated.

Byriel made a face, “Use your other senses to make up for the loss of sight?”

Jeralt frowned, “I don’t remember teaching you that one, By.”

“You didn’t, Claude came up with it.”

“Oh, well that explains it,” Jeralt narrowed his eyes and shrugged, “It’s a good idea, but don’t forget that the enemy will also be doing the same thing.”

Byriel looked a bit disappointed at Jeralt’s dismissive response, but it only lasted for a moment before his expression went back to its usual stoic default. Immediately, Byleth could feel the subtle tension between the two men. She had no idea why it was there, but there was something going on that she didn’t know about and it frustrated her to no end.

“Have you been to Castle Gaspard before?” She asked, trying to shift the attention away from whatever it was they were distracted by.

“I’ve been there once before, many years ago,” Jeralt nodded, looking thoughtful, “It was by request of the son of that family… Christophe, I think it was.”

“Christophe…?” Byleth hadn’t heard that name before. She assumed that Lord Lonato only had Ashe and his siblings as children.

“It was several years ago, I don’t remember the specifics. I’ll probably remember when you two get back.”

Byriel tilted his head, “Why do I get the feeling you’re hiding something?”

Their father shook his head, “I get you doubt me, but this isn’t a topic we should talk about here in the dining hall.”

Her brother stared at Jeralt, “Do you not trust us?”

The knight paused, “What?”

“By-” Byleth tugged at her brother’s sleeve.

“You say that like you don’t trust us to know the truth.” Byriel reaffirmed.

That tension was back, but it was stronger than it was a moment ago. Jeralt stared at his son, his expression a silent and stern warning.

Byleth shook her head, growing annoyed at not knowing, “Stop, both of you! Now isn’t the time for any of this, not when we’re about to go into battle! If you two keep this up I’ll… I’ll make you both walk all the way to Castle Gaspard!”

The two men stared at Byleth, who glared back with as stoic of an expression she could muster. She could feel the gazes of several bystanders watching the trio in their family dispute, and immediately she wanted to run and hide under a table to get away from the prying eyes, but it was either be stared at or have her brother and father get into a full-blown argument.

Finally, after what was a solid few seconds, Jeralt sighed, “Alright, you win.”

Byriel squinted at his sister, “You can be such a mom sometimes, By.”

“Well, someone has to keep you two straight.” She stated.

Byriel raised an eyebrow at her.

“You know what I mean.” Byleth rolled her eyes.

“I know,” Byriel smirked a little, and immediately ran his hand through her mess of hair. She swatted at his arm, but he managed to pull back quickly enough to avoid the blow.

“Alright, enough of that,” Jeralt sighed, breaking up the banter for the moment, “You two have a mission to get to.”

“You won’t go?” Byleth asked.

“I have a mission of my own to deal with, unfortunately,” the older knight explained, “I’m off to the Leicester Alliance with Alois, something about investigating some missing people. Nothing serious or anything you need to worry about.”

“It  _ sounds _ serious, though…” Byriel pointed out.

“It’s nothing Alois and I can’t handle on our own,” Jeralt affirmed, “You two shouldn’t keep your students waiting, but remember what I’ve taught you two about fighting in weather like this. It’ll be a lot harder to sleep at night if one of your students gets killed out there.”

“We won’t forget.” Byleth nodded.

“Good. Then I’ll see you two in a few days.”

Before they could say a proper goodbye, Jeralt walked past them and out of the dining hall. Not abnormal for their father, but Byleth wondered if something else was on his mind today.

“Do you think something happened, Byriel?” Byleth asked her twin.

“Maybe,” her brother frowned, furrowing his brows, “Considering that the Church isn’t as respected as it seems by other organizations and groups, it may have a lot of business to ‘deal with’ besides a rebellion.”

“Like what?”

“Church assassinations?”

“That’s a pretty dark possibility…”

“It is,” Byriel looked at her, “But it doesn’t matter how widely the Church is worshipped in Fódlan. Anything that powerful will have enemies, in this land or outside of it.”

That much, she knew was true.

Her brother looked towards the exit, “Let’s find the others, we should head out as soon as possible.”

Byleth nodded, following her brother out towards the reception hall and to where the rest of the classes had agreed to meet.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

_ As the classes began the journey towards Castle Gaspard, it became very apparent that the knight Catherine was much more well-known and admired than Byleth and Byriel first thought. _

Byleth even caught Claude telling her brother something along the lines of, “I’ve heard she’s intimidating enough to silence the howling winds!”

Her brother looked doubtful of such a claim, though, from the presence of authority that the knight carried, Byleth wasn’t about to try and see for herself.

“Yes…” Hubert had his usual thin smile across his face as he walked just a little ways behind Byleth, enough to make his presence known that is, “No matter how powerful our enemies may be, there is no need to worry so long as we’re with Catherine.”

The professor gave Hubert a brief glance, concern growing at the idea of the valet forming some kind of plan.

As the morning went on, the fog refused to let up completely. It had thinned out the further they got from the monastery, but as the Magdred Way grew closer the weather began to take a turn for the worse. Now, the mist was so heavy that the road they walked down became nearly impossible to see. Occasionally a tree would pass by or maybe a bush of some kind, but the further Byleth stared down the road the more unsettled she grew thinking that the enemy could be anywhere and they’d never see them approaching.

“This weather could be problematic…” Edelgard frowned, “We’re more vulnerable grouped together like this.”

“In that case, let’s split the groups we have and go around,” Byriel squinted against the fog, “We can’t see them, but it’s likely they can’t see us either.”

“Is it safe to just go in blindly like this?” Byleth asked.

Lindhart yawned from the back of the group, “Hm, this fog… it might be the work of some kind of warlock.”

Everyone stared at the sleepy student, silent and waiting for him to go on.

“Is that it?” Caspar asked his friend.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Caspar cried.

“It’s only a guess.”

Annette looked thoughtful, “If it is the work of a warlock… I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

“It’s likely some form of dark magic,” Hubert interjected, his eyes fixed on the area intensely, “That also means that the one who cast it is not too far away. Shouldn’t be too difficult to hunt them down.”

“In that case, I guess we really have no other choice but to split up…” Claude stared out at the gloom.

“Golden Deer and some of the Black Eagle students can go together,” Byriel stated, “Blue Lions and the other half of Black Eagle students can go the other way.”

“That would be the wisest choice…” Dimitri nodded in agreement with the plan, “If you’re in agreement, that is.”

Edelgard sighed, “I suppose we don’t have any other plan.”

“Then I guess it’s settled,” Claude looked to the twins, “Alright, how do you want to divide it up?”

Byleth stood by her brother’s side, staring at the Black Eagle students and silently trying to gain which ones to bring with them.

From what she knew of her own students, and from what Byleth had observed from the Black Eagle students herself, she had a good feeling on which ones she wanted to bring with her.

“Bernadetta, Petra, Lindhart, and Caspar,” Byleth listed off, “They’ll go with us.”

“Hell yeah! I won’t let you down!” Caspar cheered loudly, enough so that several birds in the nearby trees flew off in a panic.

“Try not to alert the enemy of our presence, Caspar…” Hubert shook his head, frustrated with his fellow student’s loud volume.

“Oh, whoops, sorry,” Caspar laughed a bit.

Byriel looked to the remaining students; Edelgard, Hubert, Dorothea, and Ferdinand, “That means the rest of you go with the Golden Deer class.”

“I will not disappoint you, Professor!” Ferdinand proudly declared.

Dorothea noticeably sighed in annoyance.

“With that settled,” Edelgard stepped next to Byriel, “Let us advance forward, Professor.”

“Hey now,” Claude had his scheming smile on, “You’re not planning on just running off with Teach, are you, princess?”

The future emperor glared at the house leader, “No, but do you have intentions on doing so yourself?”

Dimitri frowned at Claude, “Are you…?”

The noble only flashed a sly smile, “If I told you that, it wouldn’t be much of a scheme, would it?”

“Please don’t abandon your classmates, Claude,” Byriel bluntly stated, unclear if he understood that Claude was flirting or if he was ignoring it.

“Would you miss me if I did?” The noble winked at the professor.

“No, you’ll get lost in this weather if you go running off on your own.”

Claude sighed, “Aw, didn’t work. Alright, let’s get moving.”

“Be careful, alright?” Byleth warned as the groups began to move out.

Byriel gave his sister a nod, “I will.”

In a matter of moments, the Blue Lions and what was left of the Black Eagles were the only ones in the mist; a very sleepy Lindhart, an overly-excited Caspar, a terrified Bernadetta, and a confused Petra.

“We’re glad to have you four on our side!” Dimitri smiled at the newly gained allies.

“C-Can I just go home please?!” Bernadetta cried out, trembling in fear.

“We’ll be fine,” Byleth attempted to reassure the scared archer, “Just stay close and you’ll be safe.”

Felix drew his sword, grumbling to himself, “Why am I even here?”

“All we need to do is find Lord Lonato,” Dimitri explained to the swordsman, “Once he’s defeated, that should be enough to quell the rebellion.”

“I don’t need something so painfully obvious explained to me, boar,” He snapped, “And of course  _ you  _ of all people would know something about ‘quelling’ a rebellion.”

“Felix!” Ingrid glared at the swordsman.

“I’m not wrong.”

The prince didn’t argue, “I assume you’re speaking of the events two years ago. Last time we met outside the academy?”

“Both of you, this isn’t the time to be bringing this up,” Ingrid shook her head, trying to pull the two apart, “We have a more pressing threat at hand.”

Felix gave another glare to Dimitri before walking off to join Sylvain’s side. Not looking at the prince again.

“I apologize, professor,” Ingrid gave a bow to Byleth, “I’ll make sure they don’t get into a dispute like that again.”

Byleth nodded, “It’s fine. They’re lucky to have you as a friend.”

She smiled a bit and then walked to follow Felix and Sylvain.

“Uh, yeesh,” Caspar rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Are tensions always this high in the Blue Lions house?”

“O-Of course not!” Byleth shook her head.

Linhardt blinked slowly and then yawned, looking around, “Well, nothing is happening. Can we go home?”

“That would be the most unwise,” Petra stated, “The enemies that we are to be hurting may be trying… No, I mean might try to sneak attack us if our backs are turned.”

Bernadetta let out a whimper, “A-Already?!”

“If any enemies come out of those trees, I’ll stop them!” Caspar swung his axe for emphasis.

“If you’re too loud, they will probably get us from behind,” Linhardt didn’t seem too perturbed, even with that statement.

“We don’t need to worry too much about a sneak attack if we’re careful,” Byleth stated, “But to make sure everyone is well protected, I want Petra and Caspar to stay close with Annette and Mercedes while you and Bernadetta stay with the rest of the class.”

“What about you, Professor?” Dimitri asked.

“I’ll be leading the front of the charge.” She stated.

“Professor,” Dedue stepped from Dimitri’s side, towering over his considerably shorter teacher, “I can help lead the charge with you.”

The prince suddenly looked concerned, “You two aren’t planning to run into the mist alone, are you?”

Byleth rolled her shoulder a bit, “We’ll be fine, I need you to keep an eye on everyone else.”

Petra gave the two a look, “I do not mean to be questioning your choice, but it would be most foolish to go not seeing what is to be ahead.”

Even the tired Lindhart was frowning a bit, “Seems like a reckless plan…”

“Just wait with the others and we’ll join you in a moment,” Byleth instructed, “I have a plan, and we’re not alone out here, remember that.”

The students didn’t protest, though some of them did give an unsure look to their professor for a moment before they all went off to their predetermined groups. The only ones left behind were Ashe and Dimitri.

“Ashe, you stay close to Dimitri,” Byleth instructed, “Dimitri, I want you to stay close to the others and watch their backs.”

“Professor, we can accompany you and Dedue.” He stated.

She frowned a bit, “You may, but I want to make sure someone is watching out for any potential enemies behind the others.”

“What about you two?” Ashe asked, “What if you get into trouble and no one is there to help you?”

“I’ve been in worse scrapes-”

“I insist you let me go with you.” Dimitri spoke a little louder, concern obvious in his tone, “I would never be able to forgive myself if anything happened to you or Dedue!”

She blinked, confused. Yes, this mission had the potential to be dangerous, but the worry and fear in his face were more than someone should’ve felt in this situation. What was he so afraid of?

From the fog, not too far from where the three stood, came the sounds of several footsteps that ended all conversation. Byleth knew that whoever was approaching couldn’t be an enemy preparing to sneak up on them; she had spent years as a mercenary taking the time to listen to people’s footsteps that she could tell the difference between someone walking to find a person from a bandit preparing to sneak up and attempt to slit her throat.

From the mist, sure enough, several soldiers wearing the Knights of Seiros on their armor walked to meet them. They were led by the woman that Byleth and Byriel had met at the beginning of the month when they were disclosed their mission.

Catherine, one of the most powerful knights that belonged to the church.

She smiled at the group before her, “Sorry to keep you waiting so long, just had to make sure enough of us were securing the area. Lord Lonato has nowhere to go, that much I can assure you.”

“Glad you could join us.” Byleth felt her insides cringe at conversing again.

“It’s a real honor to be accompanied by such a brave and distinguished knight,” Dimitri smiled at the woman, “By none other than Catherine, wielder of Thunderbrand.”

That part was new. Byleth squinted a bit, “Thunderbrand… what are you talking about?”

Her statement earned a surprised look from some of her students.

“You mean you don’t know?” Catherine asked.

“No…” The feeling of wanting to run and hide into the fog became stronger.

Thankfully, the knight didn’t look offended. Instead, she drew out a sword carried in a sheathe on her back. However, it was unlike any sword Byleth had ever seen; while it looked like a typical sword the professor had been trained to wield her entire life, this sword had six branches that shot out of the weapon and pointed towards the blade’s edge. Even the material wasn’t anything that the former mercenary had ever seen; it looked rough in some places, but the blade was completely smooth and sharp. It didn’t look like it was made from iron or steel, it didn’t even look like it was made from silver or prized Zoltan metal. It almost looked as though it were a sword carved completely from stone.

“My weapon is called Thunderbrand. It’s one of the Hero’s Relics.”

“Hero’s Relics…” Byleth frowned, the words being somewhat unfamiliar, “They were mentioned in one of the books Byriel and I read. But I’m not familiar with what they are.”

Catherine smiled a bit, “Ah, no worries. A long, long time ago, the goddess bestowed divine weapons upon 10 heroes, which were passed down to their descendants.”

“There’s ten of them?”

Dimitri nodded, “That is correct.”

“It’s an honor to wield, but I’m afraid there won’t be any chance for that today,” Catherine withdrew the sword, “Our mission is to help clean up the aftermath, not to fight.”

“Why would Lonato incite such a reckless rebellion?” Ashe spoke up, approaching the knight with hopes of her answering.

“You should know more about that than any of us, Ashe…” Catherine said.

“I don’t…” Ashe looked no less distraught than he did a month before, “Lonato never mentioned anything of the like to me.”

The prince gave Ashe a sympathetic look, “He probably didn’t want you getting caught up in his own personal vendetta.”

_ Wait… personal vendetta? Seteth and the archbishop never said anything about that. _

“He was always so kind. I don’t understand…” Ashe looked to the ground, “I guess it has to do with Christophe.”

She recognized the name instantly, “Jeralt mentioned him.”

Catherine’s expression was grim, “Professor, how much do you know about the Tragedy of Duscur?”

She pressed a hand to her chin in thought, thinking back to when she and Byriel had gone through history books in the library. It was a recent event and a very horrifying and terrible one, that much she knew, as well as Dedue being from there.

“I’ve heard of it a little.” She said.

The air grew cold around them, though Byleth didn’t know if it was due to the fog alone.

Catherine looked saddened, “It’s when the king of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus was… was murdered by the people of Duscur. It happened about four years ago…” The knight looked to Dimitri, who had stayed quiet.

A connection was made, and Byleth felt her stomach churn; the king of Faerghus, Dimitri is set to take over… that was his father who was killed. 

Dimitri shook his head, “It’s okay, Catherine. Please, go on.”

“Right,” Catherine straightened, “Well, Lord Lonato’s son, Christophe, was accused of being involved in the whole awful affair. He was executed by the church.”

“The church executes criminals?” Byleth recalled her brother talking about church assassins, but she didn’t think he was being completely serious.

The prince was silent, looking solemn.

“King Lambert was attempting a major political reform. Needless to say, he had many enemies,” Catherine explained, “And speaking from the church’s perspective, we simply passed judgment according to our doctrine in place of the Kingdom, which was in complete chaos.”

It didn’t sound simple, though the former mercenary assumed that with the death of a king so suddenly, the church would have to step in to take charge before anything else could collapse. However, was it wise to leave so much power to the church?

“Why would Duscur…?” The thought trailed off, as Byleth didn’t want to press into such a disturbing issue any further. Besides, none of it made sense from what little information she had gathered.

“Whatever the truth behind that incident may be, Lord Lonato has harbored resentment toward the church ever since,” Catherine concluded.

Perhaps she and Byriel could search for more answers when they returned. Byriel was a genius with finding answers to seemingly impossible puzzles, after all, and was more likely to find anything more than she ever could.

The knight looked troubled then, “Well, to be more specific, his grudge isn’t only against the church. It’s also against the one who turned Christophe over to them…”

Byleth frowned.  _ Could that person be…? _

“Report!” A knight approached the four of them in a rush, “The enemy is approaching! They can’t be avoided. Their numbers are far greater than we predicted. They used the fog to slip past the knights’ perimeter!”

Catherine looked frustrated, her sky-blue eyes fired with anger, “It looks like our mission just changed, Professor. Everyone, prepare for battle!”

A pang of fear went through Byleth, “Byriel and the others…”  _ He’ll be okay if Claude and Edelgard are with him, right? Surely he has a plan ready, right? But what if he gets hurt and I can’t do anything to help him? _

“Professor?” Ashe’s voice broke through her thoughts.

She straightened, “R-Right then, everyone, get ready and stay close.”

“With this fog, it’s impossible to tell where the enemy might be or how many of them there are. The enemy could be trying to surround us, but they shouldn’t have enough soldiers to form a tight circle… ” Catherine turned to her own knights, “Take down anyone who breaks through the fog and let’s push through!”

“Th-That’s a bit reckless…” Byleth commented, but she was too late before the knight ran into the mist.

Then again, she was planning on doing the same thing… 

From the distance, Byleth could hear people shouting at one another accompanied by the sound of metal and magic clashing.

“It seems the knights are already battling…” Dimitri held his weapon tightly.

“Proceed with caution!” Byleth shouted to the groups of students, “Wait for them to enter your field of view and watch each other’s backs.”

With that, Byleth began to run forward. Dedue was waiting for her already, and the two began to walk cautiously into the mist.

“Professor!” Dimitri called out, but he wasn’t able to do so fast enough before he and Ashe disappeared behind them.

Byleth drew out her own sword, “We won’t go too far, just enough to clear the way.”

“Understood,” Dedue replied gruffly.

The two began their slow march into the fog, eyes and ears open and searching for any signs of potential threats around them. The air was so cold, even with the long-sleeved shirt, and everywhere the young professor looked there was nothing but fog and the occasional outline of a tree or bush. Her nerves were on edge, and her hands gripped the hilt of her sword so tight that her fingers stung.

However, the stoic presence of Dedue did lessen the anxiety Byleth felt. He stood just by her side enough for her to see him, and he scanned the murky terrain with precision.

“It’s quiet.” The Duscur man stated.

She nodded, “Be on guard-”

As the words left her lips, there was a  _ fwoosh  _ overhead. Immediately, Byleth darted to the side, but not before feeling a sharp pain shoot across her shoulder. Dedue charged forward, almost completely disappearing from sight, his axe raised overhead. As the young professor recovered her footing, she saw the student swing the weapon down and right into the faded silhouette of an enemy lurking behind the treeline.

“Dedue-!”

The Duscur man returned to her side quickly, “Are you hurt, Professor?”

Byleth checked where she felt the pain, realizing that the source was from an arrow buried into the earth, and saw a thin, bleeding cut through the sleeve protecting her upper arm.

“Just a scratch,” She shook her head, “It’ll heal in a bit. What about you?”

“Do not be concerned for me, I am uninjured.” Dedue stared at the fresh wound on Byleth’s arm.

She rolled her shoulder, “Let’s keep going, alright?”

He nodded, pulling his gaze back towards the foggy area. As the two began to walk forward, she could hear fighting from both sides. Though the sounds seemed far off, and there was no way to specifically pinpoint where the sources were.

Suddenly, there was a flash of a shadow and the  _ snap _ of a branch. The moment the sound registered to her ears, Byleth turned to the source and swung her blade. There came a  _ clang _ of metal, and from the fog was a sword-wielding enemy. She dug her feet into the ground, determined not to be overpowered by the militia soldier.

“Lord Lonato…” The attacker gritted his teeth, trying to shove Byleth back, “He doesn’t deserve such sadness and anger…”

Byleth set her expression in stone, refusing to back down as Dedue began to charge to her side.

“Now it’s your turn to suffer!” the soldier cried out and pushed her back hard.

Rolling with the action, she jumped back far enough for Dedue to swipe his axe at the militia attacker. The man backed away in time, only getting a graze from the sharp weapon, but throwing himself off balance.

She lunged forward, sword slicing through the mist with a shriek, the blade burying itself into the militia’s ribs. The would-be attacker cried out in pain, but his screams were silenced as Dedue buried his axe right into the man’s back.

Withdrawing her blade, their attacker fell to the ground and didn’t get up again.

However, their problems didn’t end there. There came more running footsteps from in front of them, causing Byleth to take up her stance once more as an axe-wielding militia soldier ran from the fog yelling a battle cry.

Behind him, just standing at the edge of their line of sight, Byleth could see another attacker. This one held a bow in hand, an arrow pointed right for her and Dedue.

“You think we were just gonna do nothing while you try to kill our lord?!”

Byleth narrowed her gaze, shifting her feet to balance her weight on the balls of her feet. The archer let the arrow go, and she dove to the side in a roll and quickly stood back up, lunging for the axe-wielder. The militia attacker readied himself for the attack, swinging the axe overhead in an arch to hit her, but being light on her feet made avoiding such a blunt attack easy. 

Shifting her stance sideways, the axe swung right past her face and missing by only inches, nearly causing her to flinch back in surprise at how close the blade was to cutting off her nose, but it was enough to throw the brute off balance. Byleth shifted once more and slid the blade cleanly into the attacker’s stomach.

The attacker let out a gasp, and she withdrew the weapon. The injury wasn’t enough to completely kill him in one shot, but she didn’t have to worry about that as Dedue charged in after her attack and finished the militia soldier off with a blow to the neck.

Byleth had seen violence plenty of times, but even she had to close her eyes at the brutal attack. All she could hear was the dry  _ snap _ of bone.

In the fog, another  _ twang _ of a bowstring. When her eyes opened, she saw the arrow fly right past Dedue’s head and barely miss his ear. The Duscur man was unphased, but the cut on the side of his chin bled still.

“Professor!”

From behind her, another release of an arrow found home in the leg of the attacking archer. The militia soldier still stood his ground aiming another arrow at the fog and firing blindly. While he was distracted, the professor ran for the silhouetted figure. Unable to run and having no sword or lance to fight back with, the archer quickly fell with one deadly slash across his throat. Blood sprayed out briefly before the dead attacker collapsed to the ground, though Byleth still remained on guard for any other attacks.

Breaking from the mist behind them, Ashe approached. Other than a cut on the side of his neck, he seemed unharmed. 

“Are you alright Professor?” He asked, his voice raised in concern.

“I’m fine-”

As she spoke, another  _ twang _ of string and a sting to the back of her arm. Ashe cried out in shock and fear, and Byleth sucked in a short breath at seeing an arrow dig into the ground at their feet. This cut was much more painful, and it bled considerably more than the other cut.

Ashe immediately fired back in retaliation, though his aim was off given how concealed the attacker was. Another arrow sailed through the air, directly hitting the silver-haired boy in his shoulder. He cried out, falling to one knee and clutching at the wound.

“Ashe-!” Byleth ran to his side, forgetting about the attacker. Though Dedue, who stared at his fellow classmate with enough concern to be readable, held his weapon out and looked for the attacker.

“Are you alright?!” Byleth felt her stomach do a flip, scanning the area for any signs of Mercedes or Lindhart.

Ashe nodded tightly, “I-I’m fine-!”

“Don’t touch it, Mercedes can’t be too far away.” Byleth clenched her fists, wishing Byriel was there.

“Got you didn’t I, you little brat?” An arrogant voice sneered at them from the fog, “This time I won’t miss!”

Dedue glowered at the fog, searching for any signs of an attacker as Byleth searched the woods for any signs of the other students. Another arrow came from the fog, grazing the Duscur man’s ribs and causing him to let out a grunt as it began to bleed.

“Only cowards hide in the shadows,” Byleth stated, getting to her feet and searching for the attacker. Her hands shook with anger and her body felt numb.

The archer scoffed from the mist, and another arrow sailed through the air. Thankfully, this one didn’t hit anyone and missed completely, finding home in the tree behind the three.

Still, this was bad; the fog was so thick she couldn’t tell where this man was and given he had the advantage, he could keep firing arrows at them. Perhaps he couldn’t see them completely, but it was close enough for him to get an accurate shot and yet still remain unseen.

_ What was that Byriel said this morning? Use your other senses? _

She thought she’d try it. It wasn’t as though she had another plan at this point. Using her ears, Byleth tried to pinpoint the sounds around her; the wind rustling the leaves overhead, Ashe’s short breaths, the fighting in the distance, and… the exhale of someone breathing just to her right.

Byleth lunged for the source of the sound, crashing through the bushes and swinging her blade downwards and into the bushes. The heavy metal blade made contact with something soft, followed by a scream.

The troublesome archer backed away, his shoulder bleeding. “You bitch-!”

Before he could say anything more, Byleth picked up the sound of another  _ twang. _ The archer cried out, collapsing to the ground and writhing in pain. An arrow was sticking out of his back, right where his heart would be. He didn’t move for much longer after that.

Looking for the source, the professor’s eyes fell upon a trembling Bernadetta standing in the foliage, her hands and legs shaking.

“I-I got him-!” She looked astonished and horrified by her own actions.

“N-Nicely done.” Byleth exhaled, her breath shaking.

From behind Bernadetta, Mercedes and Annette broke from the bushes backed by Caspar and Petra. The two Black Eagles looked a little worse for wear, covered in bruises and some fresh cuts that looked as though they were already in the process of being healed.

“We heard a scream,” Mercedes looked worried, “Professor, is everything alright?”

“Ashe needs healing,” Byleth stated, “Can you please take a look?”

The rose-gold-haired noble’s eyes grew, but without saying anything else she ran past Byleth to where Dedue and Ashe were still waiting.

“What happened? Are you three alright?” Byleth asked.

Annette nodded, “For the most part, we are. There were a few militia forces we ran into, but Petra and Caspar took care of them.”

Caspar laughed loudly, “Yeah! Those guys were no match for us!”

“We have been the most successful- no…” Petra started over, “We have been successful in battle.”

The professor sighed, relieved.

“Your arms are scratched up, are you alright, Professor?” Annette stared at the bleeding cuts on Byleth’s arms with worry.

“They’ll stop bleeding in a bit,” Byleth reassured the girl, “Come on, stay close alright?”

The four walked back to Ashe, Mercedes, and Dedue; Mercedes was knelt by Ashe’s side, her fingers laced over the arrow and holding the boy’s arm.

“Hold still, alright?”

Ashe nodded, and Mercedes’s hands began to illuminate with healing magic. Shockingly, the arrow also began to glow with similar magic and broke apart into smaller, firefly-like lights. The spot where Ashe had been hit had begun to stitch itself back together, and the bleeding had halted.

“The arrow wasn’t too deep, fortunately. I was able to stop the bleeding and heal most of the wound, but you should see Manuela when we return.” Mercedes instructed, her tone motherly in a sense.

“Thank you, Mercedes.” Ashe rolled his arm a bit, testing the waters, “You’re amazing, I can’t even feel the pain anymore.”

Mercedes smiled gently, “You’re welcome.”

As Byleth and the other students got closer, the air suddenly shook with a loud explosion. Several trees rattled, their leaves falling all around them, and many of the students around Byleth, including herself, immediately covered their ears in response.

“What was that?!” Annette cried.

From behind the group, another figure started to make itself clear in the fog. Before anyone could raise a weapon, Dimitri emerged from the gloom. His own lance raised in preparation to fight. Thankfully, both sides registered who the others were before any more blood could be shed.

“Ashe, are you alright?!” The prince immediately looked to the archer, who was slowly pulling himself back to his feet.

“I-I’m alright, Your Highness,” Ashe gently ran a hand over the spot where Mercedes had healed his wounds, “I’m sorry, I lost you in the mist.”

The prince looked to Byleth, “Professor, I was able to get rid of a few more soldiers from the sidelines. There shouldn’t be anyone else waiting to surprise us.”

She immediately noticed the blood staining his armor, as well as a cut on the side of his ribs. But other than that, he looked unharmed.

“I’m glad you’re alright…” Byleth felt relieved, seeing that he was alright.

“Your arm-!” The prince stared at the bleeding wounds lining her limbs.

Instinctively, she ran a hand over the deepest of the cuts and felt a sudden sting of pain, “It-It’s alright, they don’t hurt that much.”

The prince looked doubtful, and immediately gave a glance towards Mercedes to approach.

“Professor, will you let me?” Mercedes asked.

“Heal me last,” Byleth instructed, “Take care of everyone else first.”

She hesitated, but eventually nodded and walked to the Black Eagle students to tend to their wounds first.

Dimitri squinted against the fog, “It feels as though we are walking in circles. I have yet to catch any sign of Claude or Edelgard.”

Byleth felt that same pang of fear for her brother’s safety returning. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing…” The prince shook his head.

_ Byriel… You’re okay, aren’t you? _

She straightened, readjusting her hold on her sword, “As long as they’re staying together, they should be alright.”

Dimitri looked doubtful, but there wasn’t much either of them could do other than continue their march forward.

“Let’s keep going then,” the prince looked to their collective group members, “And stay close together.”

The groups walked onward, though most of them kept glancing over their shoulders and towards the fog in anticipation for any potential threats. Now more than anything, Byleth wished that she had her brother to watch her back. At least then, her students would be kept in good condition in case Mercedes or Lindhart were not close enough to heal.

As they marched forward, Byleth could see more silhouettes approaching from the fog. She raised her sword, preparing to lunge forward, as the rest of the students did the same. The silhouettes, sensing danger, took up a more defensive stance in response.

One of them Byleth recognized.

“Felix, Sylvain, Ingrid…” She sighed, the three Blue Lion students coming into sight.

“You scared the hell out of us!” Sylvain cried in protest, “Any longer and I would’ve skewered you!”

“Where have you been?” Dimitri asked, looking just as relieved to see his friends safe.

“Looking for the dark mage, clearly,” Felix frowned, looking irate, “I see that all you’ve done is get scratched up, boar.”

Before anyone could come up with a proper response, a sudden chill passed through Byleth. The world suddenly pulsed around her, going dark for a moment as it felt she was suddenly thrown into a cold rainstorm. As the world returned, she felt her head suddenly ache in dull pain. Her eyes widened, and the chill still lingered strong enough to cause Byleth to grab at her shoulders.

“Professor?” Ingrid noticed her reaction immediately, “Are you alright?”

“It’s cold…” She muttered.

Dimitri looked immediately concerned, “Cold?”

Then, not too far away from them, Byleth heard an explosion. It was so loud and violent that it almost shook the very ground they stood on. Everyone immediately turned to look in the direction, confused and on-guard instantly.

“What was that?” Lindhart asked, staring in the direction with curiosity.

“An explosion?!” Caspar guessed, raising his axe.

Dimitri tightened his grip on his lance, “Claude… Edelgard-!”

_ Byriel… _

Immediately, they all started to run towards the source of the sound. If Byleth had a heartbeat, it was likely it would be trying to break free from her ribs like a trapped bird.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Claude

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_ The mist was thick, obscuring most of the archer’s sight of the terrain ahead. _ Claude stood behind the professor’s shoulder, scanning the gloom for any signs of potential attackers. He hated the disadvantage the fog was giving their classes in terms of defense. But the mist wasn’t the only thing that had Claude not being able to focus on the enemy.

He had read once in a book that when one sense was incapacitated, the other four senses kicked in to compensate. With not being able to see, the only thing he could focus on was the smell, the damn captivating smell, that came from the mysterious yet captivating professor. He couldn’t place the first smell, it was definitely a spice of some kind.

But the second one was obvious, fire. Wherever Byriel went, the smell of fire followed him like a burning halo. And dammit, it was bewitching.

Byriel stared out at the mist, eyes narrowed in thought, “The dark mage can’t be too far ahead, otherwise the fog wouldn’t be this thick.”

“Proceed with caution,” Edelgard spoke to their division of the Black Eagles and Golden Deer classmates, “We cannot risk the enemy sneaking upon us, so stay alert.”

Ferdinand smiled a slightly arrogant grin, “No need to worry about that, Edelgard. I am Ferdinand von Aegir! Nothing will sneak past me!”

Hubert frowned at Ferdinand, “Please, try not to alert the enemy of our location by being louder than Caspar.”

Dorothea snickered noticeably, along with several other members of the Golden Deer. Ferdinand’s cheeks went pink, and he hung his head a bit.

“I-I’m not trying to alert anyone…”

Claude almost felt bad for the noble. Almost.

The professor craned his head to look at Claude with sharp, bright blue eyes, “You stay close behind me, alright?”

_ With pleasure. _ “Whatever you say, Teach.”

The groups began their march forward, Claude’s ears perked and alert for any out-of-the-ordinary sounds.

Byriel turned his head to the side suddenly, “Did you hear that?”

Claude frowned as the rest of the class went silent, listening intently to the bushes. Other than the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind, there didn’t seem to be anything-

_ Snap. _

Immediately, Claude stepped in front of Byriel, an arrow already between his fingers.

From behind him, Edelgard spoke up sharply, “An ambush-!”

As Claude released the first arrow, a sharp pain suddenly hit him right in his left shoulder. Agony jolted down his arm and back as the sharp arrow had harshly cut into his clavicle but had barely missed impaling itself deeper into his body. It had sliced through the tendon as it rushed past him and hit the ground behind him. His bow hand went limp as numb feeling tingled in his fingers.

Thankfully, he did hear a scream from the direction his own arrow had gone, along with the sound of something heavy crashing to the ground.

“ _ Claude-! _ ” Byriel suddenly pulled on the noble’s shirt, harshly forcing him back behind a bush while the rest of their classmates did similar steps to gain cover.

“Shit…” The archer gingerly tried to move his arm, only to feel a sharp pain as a punishment for him ever trying. And yet, he didn’t want the young professor to worry so much, so he forced a smile, “Hah… guess that’s a little more than a scratch.”

The professor blinked, and then, amazingly enough, his face morphed into an expression of concerned frustration; brows narrowed, his nose somewhat scrunched, hands visibly shaking, it was the most expression the archer had seen from the professor thus far. Part of Claude felt bad for worrying the former mercenary so that he caused him to break his stoic mask, even if it was just for a moment before Byriel let out a harsh breath, and got to work attending to the painful injury.

Byriel peeled back the fabric of where Claude’s jacket and shirt had been sliced into by the arrow and began to cast Heal on him, his gloves carefully touching his skin. In less than a minute, the pain was relieved from Claude’s injury and he could move his hand and arm once again without any trouble. The only remnant of the injury was that his shoulder felt stiff, it could be a problem later when he tried to use his bow again but he didn’t dwell on the thought.

“I’m sensing a recurring theme here,” Claude stated.

“What do you mean?”

“The recurring theme of you pulling me behind bushes.”

“I can’t let you become a human pincushion, Claude,” Byriel said.

Claude frowned, “I told you before that you don’t need to do this.”

The professor matched his expression, “I’m your professor, I’m supposed to look out for your safety.”

“I can watch my own back-” He was cut off, as the former mercenary suddenly pulled his arms around the noble tightly. Claude froze.

“You can rely on me.” Byriel muttered, his face somewhere buried in the noble’s shirt, “Please don’t leave me behind. Let me be useful.”

That was… unexpected. So much so that Claude had no idea how to respond, his arms stiff and deciding if he was supposed to return the strange gesture. Now he could really get a taste of that scent Byriel carried, that fire and spice-like smell that he couldn’t identify at that moment but still drove him insane.

_ Am I supposed to hug him back? _

The hug only lasted for a second before Byriel pulled back, getting to his feet and his fingers igniting with flames, “Stay back here and watch the others, I’m going to find that dark mage.”

Claude said nothing, still very much confused as to what just happened, and Byriel ran into the mist. Staying low enough to the ground that he would be harder to notice.

The noble watched him disappear into the gloom, confused and speechless still from the exchange.

_ Let me be useful. Please don’t leave me behind. _ What the hell did he mean by that?

“You alright, Claude?” Raphael’s voice came from behind the noble, snapping him out of his confused state.

“Y-Yeah, I’m good.” Claude stood up, pulling another arrow from his quiver, “You heard Teach, stay close.”

The archer rolled his shoulder, the pain numb and not as restrictive, and he began to follow after Byriel.

“Where are you going?” Raphael questioned.

“Well, someone has to make sure he doesn’t get killed.”

Raphael looked confused, “You’re going alone?”

Claude gave the would-be-knight a smile, “Do you doubt me?”

“No,” Raphael shook his head, smiling, “But if you need me, yell out my name, ‘kay?”

“Got it.”

With that, Claude followed Byriel’s path through the fog. Staying close to the ground and listening to any signs that would indicate where the professor had gone.

Claude’s footsteps were silent as he carefully traipsed over the landscape, moving quickly and gazing around the area with heightened awareness. He wondered if Byriel was insane enough to risk going towards where the fog was the heaviest and took the risk heading in that direction. He could hardly see a damn thing now, and the air was bitingly cold.

There was a genuine fear that Byriel, alone out here, could end up with an injury a lot worse than the one he healed on Claude. Why would someone usually so cautious risk his own life with a plan so reckless?

From just a ways ahead, Claude’s ears suddenly picked up the sound of someone running. As he got closer, he was able to see Byriel bolting up to a darkly dressed mage, their beaked mask covering their face. Byriel skidded to a stop, his boots sliding in the dirt as he looked around. A few archers and other mages began to circle around him, notching their arrows and preparing their magic.

“What a foolish child.” The mage spoke through their beaked mask, preparing a ball of miasma to throw at him.

“Byriel-!” Claude screamed, preparing another arrow.

The professor only had a few seconds to think before noticing the tall, dry grass around him and his would-be attackers.

Byriel then cracked a smirk, “Everyone around me is getting an F.  **For fire.** ”

He cast Fire on himself as the Miasma hit him.

The field set aflame and immediately gobbling up the soldiers around him and burnt the dark mage. The blast knocked Claude back, making him roll harshly onto the ground. Using the momentum, he got to his feet and looked up at the now burning field, flames rising higher as they ate the dry foliage. The mist disappeared and the archer watched in horror as the flames slowly died down, expecting to reveal the cremated remains of his professor.

Instead, Byriel stood where he was, his clothes covered in soot and edges of it smoldering. He coughed and wiped his now bleeding nose, but then pulled out his sword ready to fight.

Scattered around him were a mix of burnt soldiers. Some of them were staggering to their feet, crying out at the pain of their burns, while several others lay motionless on the ground. And others were now just ash on the wind.

“Holy shit,” Claude gaped, and Byriel turned to face the noble.

Byriel blinked, “I thought I told you to stay where you were.”

“You just set yourself on fire?!”

“It’s just… fire,” He cringed, realizing that statement didn’t make the situation better, and let out another few coughs.

The dark mage still lingered, parts of his cloak were burnt but he still stood tall, “Impressive, but let’s see how well you fare against this.”

He then raised his hands up, preparing another swirling orb of miasma.

“Watch it!” Claude cried out, firing an arrow at the mage as the sphere of roaring poison slammed into the ground between the two of them and exploded into a shroud of suffocating toxins.

The archer coughed violently, his eyes burning against the blinding attack, “By-!” He called out the nickname of his professor before his throat began to burn again.

Byriel coughed violently, “C-Can’t see-!”

He could hear the dark mage laughing at them, “You shouldn’t have tried to stop us. Now you both will die.”

Taking a chance, Claude aimed his arrow towards the direction of the voice. His eyes stung, but he refused to let the two of them die here.

The arrow left his fingers, cutting through the miasma and disappearing. Then there came a scream, and the noxious mist evaporated quickly. There came another blast of heat, and the dark mage let out another cry as Claude saw the mage fall to the ground, consumed by burning flames.

The archer quickly looked over at Byriel, who was panting slightly. He wasn’t looking too great, still beat up from the fire and shaking, ready to collapse on the ground.

Before his knee could give way, Claude rushed up to him and picked him up, cradling him in his arms. He was… much lighter than he thought he’d be. In his arms, Byriel didn’t look like the intimidating demon mercenary he was on the battlefield, he just looked like a boy around his age, wounded but conscious. His eyes still burning with anger and fueled with the desire to cut down enemies.

Claude grimaced, “Why did you do that?! Running in so carelessly and then setting yourself on fire… You really are more reckless than I thought you could be, By!”

Byriel choked out a laugh, “... You’re right. I usually never rush into battle, but I suppose I was… Mad. Mad that you got hurt.”  
_Because someone hurt me?_

The professor turned his head towards the direction where the dark mage fell, the fog now completely dissipated. The remaining soldiers were just a few feet away, an old man on his horse and armed. He had a look in his eye, the look of someone who had lost everything. And he was staring right at Byriel and Claude, who were definitely in shooting range. Behind him, Claude could hear the remaining class running towards them, but it was clear they were quite a bit aways.

“I hope you have a clever idea of how to get us both out of here alive, Claude.”

“... Not really, guess we’ll have to ‘wing it’.”

Byriel wiped his face with a smile and set his fingers aflame once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EldritchGremlin: Thank you all for 10,000 hits! We really appreciate it, so we set up a curious cat where you can ask questions and we'll have a special little thing where we answer them :>   
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HappyBirddi: WOOOOOOOOOOOO


	21. Chapter 20: Stories that Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter include a horse getting killed. Also this chapter is SAD

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty ꧂

✦ ⋅ Stories that Change ⋅ ✦

* * *

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Imperial Year 1173

Ashe

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_ Rowan had fallen asleep halfway through the story, but Ashe didn’t move from the spot until the sun started to set. He nestled close to Ashe, his breath occasionally hitching in a way that almost broke Ashe completely. _

“Ashe, you should get some sleep,” Juniper stood up from the table and stretched out her fingers, wincing at the pain from the gesture.

“I’m not that tired, Junie,” Ashe tucked a piece of Rowan’s hair behind his ear, “I’m going to stay up a bit later.”

“Are you sure?” Juniper asked, walking to his side, “You get up really early to go to work…”

“I promise, I won’t stay up too late. You should get some sleep for now, alright?”

Juniper shook her head, “There’s so much more to do.”

“You’ve done plenty today,” Ashe carefully stood up, tucking the few blankets tightly around Rowan before facing the smaller girl, “Get some sleep for now, and I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“But…” She looked to the floor, unsure, “There’s still so much for me to repair. If I can’t finish it all, the merchants won’t pay me as much and we won’t get to eat…”

Ashe reached and took his sister’s hands, and reached into his pockets, pulling what little gold he had managed to hold onto from the fight and placing the coins in her bandaged palms, “Here, this should be enough to buy something warm tomorrow.”

Juniper looked at the coins, eyes wide, “Really?”

He nodded, “Yes, and tomorrow I’ll have enough to get medicine for Rowan. Maybe we’ll even have enough for some new shoes.”

She had a hopeful expression, “You really mean it?”

“I promise.”

Juniper smiled, “Thank you, big brother.”

Ashe’s stomach clenched at having to lie to his sister, but he didn’t dare tell her the truth about how he had nearly been beaten to death stealing just a handful of gold. He didn’t tell her where he got the extra money, as he couldn’t bear the thought of her losing her sweet smile.

“Get some sleep, alright?” Ashe ruffled the girl’s short, silver hair, “You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

She held the coins tightly in her small hands, “I will.”

The older brother watched Juniper add the few coins to the shallow bowl on the table that they kept their collected gold in, unable to ignore the hollow sound of the money pattering against the wood. Keeping up a brave face, Ashe tucked his sister next to Rowan, pulling the blankets over her and leaving a brief peck on her forehead.

“Sleep well, Junie.”

“You too, big brother…” She practically slurred the words, rolling over on her side and soon after, holding Rowan closer to her as she slept soundly.

Ashe, however, didn’t follow suit. Instead, he picked up his grey coat once more along with a few tools he kept hidden from under one of the rotten floorboards. He had a house in mind, one of the local noble’s estates, and he had watched it enough times to know that the time to act was now when the guards were few and too tired and bored to do a proper job.

He had to do it. If he didn’t, they could all die from illness, exposure, and starvation in a matter of days. For the sake of Rowan and Juniper, he would risk his own life for them. Ashe gave one final look to his sleeping siblings, wanting to remember the image of what he was fighting for if all of this went bad before he crawled back through the window and into the cold night air.

The moment his feet hit the street, he walked quickly through the shadows. Careful to draw the attention of any soldiers as he made his way slowly to the richer district of the town and to the sprawling mansion he had made his target. All of the homes in this part of town were stately and beautiful; the buildings polished and well-kept, all seemingly carved from pristine white marble and gold. But the one Ashe had his sights on was one of the most beautiful. It stood taller than the rest, stately like a castle, with large dome-like rooftops and golden designs trailing over the many windows.

As Ashe cased the mansion, he noted that there was no light from any of the windows. He also noticed that what few guards were walking around were slacking off, drinking on the sidelines and laughing over stories from battle. 

It only took a matter of time before he found the right opportunity to sneak through several bushes and under one of the first-floor windows. He waited, listening carefully for any signs of movement or sound from inside and from the outside area before he made his way to one of the back door entrances for servants to come and go whenever needed. Testing the door handle, it was locked tight. But it was nothing that Ashe couldn’t get past by slipping two of his tools, a thin piece of metal and one with a hook on the other end, through the lock and carefully pushing at the pins. His ears strained to listen for any sounds, his fingers laced with sweat and nearly causing him to drop one of the tools as his heart pounded in his chest as he heard one click after another until the door creaked open, allowing the boy to slip inside.

Light on his feet, Ashe kept close to the ground and walls. His back pressed hard against the oak wood as he snuck through what he assumed to be the servant quarters, and past the workers who were sleeping soundly in their cots. The rooms were slightly dusty, but overall well-kept, and there were plenty of crates and barrels of various sizes for Ashe to hide behind as he slowly found his way into the main halls of the mansion.

The inside of this place was just as beautiful as the outside; finely crafted furniture made from dark wood and fine pale fabrics were seemingly placed precisely in a way to give the mansion a home-like, welcome feeling. There were carefully painted portraits of landscapes hung on the walls, and several tables had vases of flowers resting on them. As Ashe walked carefully through the quiet halls, he couldn’t help but marvel at how vastly different this place was compared to the shack that he and his siblings called temporary home.

He searched through oak drawers and cabinets lined with various items, looking for just enough to pocket and escape with. Things that were the most likely to go unnoticed if they disappeared. However, the more Ashe looked, the less confident he grew. He hadn’t found anything that remotely seemed valuable other than a few glass decorations that were too fragile to escape with.

_ I only need enough for medicine. _

Ashe looked through the rooms carefully, walking past a dining room with a long, dusty table, a drawing room with a desk covered in papers Ashe couldn’t understand, and finally, an enormous library. Out of all the rooms he had seen, this room was the most impressive; the room was big enough to fit maybe ten of the shacks that Ashe and his siblings resided in, the floors and walls made from polished ebony wood and every wall lined with bookshelves.

Unfortunately for Ashe, none of these books meant anything to him. His parents had passed on before he could properly learn how to read, and it had been a subject difficult for him even beforehand. Besides, he couldn’t be bothered with books now. Not when there were more pressing things to search for.

Ashe crossed the room, his feet making little noise as they passed over a large, intricately woven rug, and up to a large oak table. He noticed a gold and blue box sitting on it, among several more papers and a burning candlestick, and his heartbeat accelerated as he managed to carefully pick the simple lock keeping it closed. Something this intricate could only have something valuable in it.

Before he could pry it open, however, his eyes fell upon something hidden amongst the mess of papers. Partially concealed by documents, there was a book open to an illustrated page of what appeared to be a knight holding a lance.

_ Leave it. Just leave it. _

Ashe found himself pushing the papers aside, fully revealing the book in the light of the candlestick on the table. It was a beautiful picture that Ashe couldn’t tear his eyes away from; a knight adorned in silver and blue armor, holding a mighty lance by his side and followed by a group of similarly dressed heroes. They stood before a woman with long, emerald-colored braids, a gold headdress resting atop her head and adorn in ivory and lapis-colored robes. She stood before the group of knights, a hand extended to them in friendship, while the heroes stared at her in awe.

The thief had never seen such a beautiful illustration before. The colors were vibrant, commanding in attention. Every line of the illustration detailed to a point where Ashe waited for the heroes to start moving. He couldn’t read the words next to the picture, but looking at the image before him told a clear story without needing to rely on letters.

It could almost hear the voice of his mother and father telling him the tale of these brave heroes despite him being unable to read.

He turned a few more pages, following the knights as they walked on their journey. The story continued on, the hero in blue and silver facing a monstrous dragon with bone-colored scales that breathed flames the color of blood. Ashe followed them as they emerged from the battle victorious, he followed them as they made their way home to a celebrating kingdom, and right towards the end where the brave hero had a crown of gold and lapis placed upon his head by a bishop.

_ Leave it. _

Ashe glanced over at the box on the table, the key to what his siblings needed to survive.

_ It’s useless. _

His eyes fell back on the book and its final page.

_ Juniper and Rowan are more important. _

And yet, he couldn’t leave it.

The thief took in a shaking breath, and with fast hands, he closed the book and held it close to his chest. He didn’t know why, but the thought of him leaving this behind was too painful to think of.

But in his careless rush to take it, the box tipped over the edge of the table and landed with a loud _ bang. _

Suddenly, Ashe heard the door open. His heartbeat skipped as a man entered the room, leaving the thief with no chance to escape. He instinctively let out a gasp, dropping the book to the carpet before as an older noble with greying hair and a bushy mustache locked sharp, blue eyes with Ashe’s.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Byriel

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_ As the fog began to lift, Byriel could see the remaining knights surrounding Lord Lonato start to back up. _Their weapons drawn, and their gazes set not at Claude holding Byriel, but something next to them. From the wavering mist, a figure began to emerge. There was a blast of heat so intense, Byriel could feel it despite being several feet away. The outline of a cruel sword glowed brightly in the gloom, and the knight Catherine emerged.

She moved like a blur, cutting through the fog and slashing through the militia soldiers swiftly. Byriel was stunned, as well as unsettled at how easily the knight was able to dispatch the enemy.

It also occurred to Byriel that he was still being held by Claude, held protectively in his arms. Every part of him ached from the Fire and the Miasma, his lungs burned and his eyes stung, but for whatever reason, he still felt strong in the archer’s arms. Again, he caught the scent of pine and that unfamiliar citrus Claude seemed to always carry on his skin and clothes.

_ Damn it, he smells so nice. _

“You alright, Teach?” Claude asked, his bright jade-colored eyes lined with worry.

The look on the noble’s face sent a painful jolt through Byriel. He had seen that same look on Claude’s face just a few moments ago. Byriel hadn’t seen the archer before, and in that split moment he hadn’t paid enough attention, he heard Claude cry out in pain and turned to see an arrow sunk into the noble’s chest. Crimson had stained his clothes as he fell to the ground, motionless and dead. Divine Pulse kicked in almost instinctively.

There was no evidence left, no indication that Claude was harmed or dying, but the memory still painfully wavered in front of Byriel’s vision. So much so that his hands shook.

“Teach?”

Byriel nodded stiffly, “I’m fine…”

Claude frowned, “You don’t sound fine.”

“I’m a little shaken up from everything that’s happened,” It wasn’t technically a lie. Besides, Claude didn’t know about Sothis or Divine pulse, it would be a poor decision to tell him now.

The noble stared at him, then slowly set Byriel back down on his feet. However, he still stood close, “Don’t pull something that reckless again, alright? We still have a lot more to do, so you can’t go dying on me yet.”

Byriel’s throat felt tight. He looked at him for a moment and then nodded, “... I won’t.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, a voice broke through the fog, “By!”

The professor turned and spotted his sister running through the waning fog and into sight. Even from the distance he was at, he could see the bleeding scratches on her face. Close behind her followed Dimitri and the rest of the Blue Lion and their half of the Black Eagle class.

“Claude, what happened?!” Dimitri stared at the noble with concern, “You look terrible.”

He scoffed a bit, “I should be saying that about you.”

Byleth ran up to her brother, grabbing him by the shoulders and practically shaking him as she spoke, “We heard an explosion, was that you?! Are you hurt?! You’re covered in burns!”

“I’m alright, By,” He examined the cuts on her, “You look worse than I do.”

She narrowed her brows at him, “I seriously doubt that.”

“Professors,” From behind the two, Edelgard approached both of them. Her axe had several dark red stains on them, and she had several scratches on her, “Lord Lonato isn’t far off. We should have no issues attacking him directly now.”

“Saints, Edelgard!” Claude gaped at the cuts on the princess, “Are you alright?”

She gave the Golden Deer leader a confused look, “Why wouldn't I be? I’ve had no issues getting here so far.”

Byriel looked over the princess, then at the other two house leaders; amazingly, Edelgard had come out of this fight with minimal damage. Then again, he wasn’t entirely surprised given that the future emperor was impossibly strong.

“She’s right,” Dimitri swung his lance into a more offensive position, “Now is the best time to strike.”

The group turned back to where Lord Lonato stood; he was surrounded by several handfuls of militia soldiers, though most of them carried themselves with a lack of confidence and hold their weapons in a way that suggested most of them had never held a weapon before in their lives. Though it wasn’t a huge army, it was enough to border-overwhelm all three classes if they put up a huge fight. Lonato sat on a horse, his appearance and presence similar to a lion made from stone, and cold blue eyes glaring down at Catherine as she took down two more soldiers.

“It’s you…” He glowered at the knight, “Thunderstrike Cassandra. It was your wretched zealotry that killed my son!”

Catherine’s expression grew cold, though there was still an air of haughty arrogance that Byriel had noticed when he first met the knight.

“The only name I answer to is Catherine,” she pointed her six-branched sword at Lonato, “Prepare to taste the blade of one who serves the goddess. Now, you face a Knight of Seiros!”

The sword began to glow a deep, sinister shade of red. But strangely enough, now that Byriel could better see the sword, he felt an uneasy paranoia prick at his skin. He thought, at first, that this was a new sensation. However, then he remembered that he had felt this fear only in his dreams of that battle. The woman with green flames for eyes and a man with a cruel, spine-like sword.

For whatever reason, the sword called Thunderbrand made Byriel afraid. Not Catherine and her abilities, but the sword itself. Something about its appearance and its aura chilled him to the bone like it wasn’t supposed to be in the hands of Catherine, or anyone for that matter. It reminded him of Sothis, some old ancient relic that didn’t belong in this world.

“The fog has cleared,” Lonato addressed the rest of the students, “There’s nothing left to hide you or the filthy Central Church from the judgment of the goddess!”

Byriel looked to the groups of students that he and his sister had sworn to guide and protect; their expressions varied from determination to unease, even some bordering on fear. There weren’t a lot of soldiers left, but one false move could lead to massive casualties.

Byleth stood next to him, her expression serious, “Stay in the groups we put you in and watch each other’s backs. Don’t let your guard down, no matter what, alright?”

Most of the students still looked uneasy, but then Leonie straightened amidst the crowd, “Well, you heard her! Let’s get this done so we can go home!”

Felix rolled his eyes a bit, “As if I’d be so careless at this point.”

Noticeably, Byriel saw the disapproving look on Dorothea’s face as she readied a spell to throw at the enemy. Even more so, he saw Ashe lock his gaze where Lonato stood. 

It was brief, but Byriel could see a flash of regret over Lonato’s face. In a moment, the old stone lion simply looked like an old man who had lost everything. Though, it quickly froze back over to one of unwavering determination.

Byriel looked over at his sister, and without saying anything he placed a hand over her shoulder and cast a quick heal spell. The cuts on her face and arms closed up and began to scab over, and though they would need another round of healing magic later, it should be enough for Byleth to go on fighting.

She frowned a bit, “Maybe I should learn how to do that so you’re not constantly healing me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Byriel stated, drawing out his sword, “And even if it did, I don’t want to lose my test subject yet.”

She made a face briefly but then focused her attention back on the fight ahead.

Without hesitating any further, the two charged into battle with their students in toe. While there was a limited amount of soldiers left, determination and stubbornness to survive was enough to make it challenging. Byriel’s sword clashed against the enemy’s, again and again, leaving more minor cuts than fatal blows on his opponent more than once. Even his capable sister, who Byriel had never seen lose a fight, struggled at the stubborn enemies.

Magic shot across the fields, striking at the grounds and enemies with force. It was a smart idea to split the groups up accordingly, as each was able to balance what weaknesses the others hand. Someone more proficient in magic, like Lysithea and Annette, were easily protected by the faster and stronger students like Ingrid and Hilda.

Byriel felt a pang of panic as Caspar, much like how Edelgard had warned him before, rushed headfirst into a group of enemies and quickly became surrounded. A look of confusion crossed Caspar’s face as if he was thinking, ‘how did this possibly happen?’ but regardless, the smaller boy started to attack the enemies around him with reckless abandon.

“Caspar!” Edelgard cried out, unable to help him as she was being swarmed herself. She, thankfully, had Hubert by her side to even out the numbers.

Before Byriel could step in to help Caspar, a powerful gust of wind nearly threw him to the ground. The professor turned to the source and saw Lindhardt throw a Cutting Gale across the field and right into a group of militia soldiers. Linhardt, who was usually apathetic towards most things, was actually _ running _ towards Caspar and then cast Nosferatu on a soldier who was about to cut Caspar down from behind. His body crumpled from the magic, their spine snapping as they bent backward and collapsed dead onto the group, blood splattering all over mage. Linhardt made a face of disgust and covered his mouth, horror in his eyes.

“Linhardt!” Caspar beamed at his friend, “I knew you had a fighter’s spirit! That was amazing!”

However, his excitement quickly diminished upon seeing the traumatized look on Linhardt’s face. But before the mage could answer, another one of Lonato’s soldiers rushed at him, sword in him. Caspar quickly got in front of his friend and defended him, using his axe handle to deflect the blade and then swung at him, slicing into his arm with unbridled fury in his eyes.

With newly found determination, the rest of the soldiers either fell to Caspar’s ridiculous strength or backed off entirely. The smaller student was scratched up and trembling, his axe coated in blood, but it was worlds better than him being dead.

“Linhardt, are you alright?” Caspar turned to the bloodied mage.

Linhardt, shaken, slowly nodded, silent as he looked at the blood on his hands.

“You’re clearly not fine!” Caspar looked frustrated and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. Or, at least by his upper arms given their wide height difference, “Lin, talk to me!”

The mage shook his head, hurriedly wiping his shaking hands on his pants to try and get rid of the blood. It only smeared further the more he attempted to wipe away the bright scarlet stains. Caspar quickly dug through his pockets and produced a dirty, oil-stained rag he used for cleaning off weapons.

“Here, just use this and give it back to me later. You need to focus, Lin! I can’t let you get yourself killed out here!” Caspar still spoke at his usual loud volume, but there was genuine concern laced in his tone for the distressed mage.

Linhardt seemed genuinely touched by Caspar’s words and took the rag, “I’m honestly more surprised that you’ve been paying attention on the battlefield, Caspar. Usually, you’re very distracted.”

“I couldn’t ignore my best friend! So get your hands clean and let’s get out of this alive, alright?”

Byriel wanted to smile at the act of compassion, but he had to focus back on the battle ahead. The numbers of Lonatos militia began to waver more and more, and Byriel continued to scan the battlefield for any signs of people in danger. He had already used his Divine Pulse completely to save Claude, so all he had left were his own observations and Byleth’s unused minute. He hoped he didn’t have to ask her to do such a thing for him.

His sister swiftly moved through the waves of soldiers, cutting down the enemies alongside Dimitri. His motions were swift and lacked any sort of remorse as if he was used to this kind of battle. He recalled something his sister mentioned, awhile back, when they were first discussing the students they had met that day. Felix had used some rather harsh language in regard to the prince, suggesting he was a beast who did not mind killing.

Byriel wondered if this was evidence of that truth or an overreaching observation. His sister rejoined his side, covered in new bruises and cuts, but still capable of fighting.

“Their numbers are growing smaller,” She stated, “We should surround Lonato and finish this fight once and for all.”

He nodded, withdrawing his sword and feeling his hands warm up with new flames to cast.

“Professors!”

Byriel and his sister turned to see Ingrid with a look of panic on her face.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Have either of you seen Ashe?”

Byleth’s face morphed into horror, “I haven’t.”

Byriel’s gut immediately tensed, and he spun to look where Lord Lonato stood. The old stone lion’s horse managed to dodge a poorly aimed arrow and was staring down the silver-haired student.

“Ashe, get away from there!” Byleth screamed.

Dimitri, hearing the words, turned in the same direction and spotted his fellow student, “Ashe, get back!”

Lonato stared at the silver-haired boy, “Stand down, Ashe. I must destroy these evil-doers by any means necessary.”

Ashe was desperate, “Please, surrender Lonato! Whatever your reasons for doing this, we can still talk it out!”

The old man snarled, “Rhea is an infidel who has deceived the people and desecrated the goddess! We have virtue and the goddess herself on our side!”

“Even if all that’s true,” Ashe’s hands trembled holding the bow, “Dragging the townsfolk into it like this isn’t right!”

Regret formed across Lonato’s face, “Ashe, things must change. Even if it means death, what we are trying to do will be told again and again and will not be easily forgotten! I will gladly lay down my life if it will tell the rest of Fódlan to do the same!”

“This is madness!” Ashe cried.

“Madness to you, it may be. But no longer will our voices fall upon the deaf ears of the church! The archbishop and her tyranny will collapse, even if I am not there to see it!”

“Lonato-!”

“Enough,” Lonato raised his lane at Ashe, “If that is how you feel prepare yourself! I’m putting an end to this!”

Ashe only had a split second to react and move out of the way. However, the lance slashed across the archer’s back in his attempt to escape, a bloody streak staining through his clothes and causing him to collapse to the ground, crying out in agony.

“ASHE!” Byleth wailed the boy’s name, sprinting across the field towards the small silver-haired boy.

Byriel followed his sister, Ingrid running past him and keeping in step with Byleth. Dimitri, seeing what was going to happen, also focused his attention on his friend in peril. But as the four of them began to close in, several more militia soldiers got in their way.

“Protect Lord Lonato by all costs!” One of them shouted, lunging for Dimitri.

The prince gritted his teeth, his lance already swinging to collide with the attacking enemy. Ingrid drew up her own weapon and was swarmed by a man with an axe. Even Byleth and Byriel’s paths were intercepted by four more soldiers, all of them swinging their weapons at them.

“Ashe!” Byriel’s hands ignited with fire, hitting the soldiers in front of him while Dimitri managed to take down the one going after him and Ingrid. But in those precious seconds wasted, Byriel looked up and watched as Ashe drew out a sword from a sheathe and tried to block Lonato’s lance.

The sword flew from the boy’s hands with a teeth-rattling clang, and at the moment he was disarmed, Lonato pointed the lance at Ashe’s throat once more.

The silver-haired student stared up at the old man, “Please Lonato… Please don’t do this.”

Lonato’s expression was saddened, “I’m sorry, Ashe. But the story needs to change. And I will be the one to do it.”

And with those words, Byriel watched in horror as the lance plunged deep into Ashe’s chest. He heard Ingrid scream, and the world moved slowly as the silver-haired boy’s eyes grew wide from shock. And then collapsed to the ground.

The air went cold, the world darkened, everything froze in place. Byriel looked to Byleth and saw her shaking. She looked at her brother, her face mournful.

“I-I had to…”

“I know,” Byriel felt sorrowful, but he pressed forward. Wracking his brain for a solution to this mess, “Maybe we can go around the militia soldiers?”

“That will waste more time.” Byleth shook her head.

“Then we can gather more students around Lonato and have someone there to save Ashe.”

Byriel’s thoughts were racing; they only had one minute, and one minute only to change fate. Ashe was too far away to intervene, and the militia soldiers were an unavoidable obstacle. To distract Lonato was too risky a gamble, and Ashe wouldn’t back away from trying to convince the lord to give up.

There was a solution to this, there had to be one. Byriel just hadn’t found it yet. They had one chance to change fate, but how?

He could see the hill from where he stood. He could see Lonato holding the bloody lance and Ashe dead on the ground, frozen in time. It was an image that would likely follow him and his sister for the rest of their lives. They couldn’t let things stand as they were. Then Byriel’s eyes fell to the horse Lonato rose, and an idea began to form. A risky one, but one that could potentially save the silver-haired student.

“I have something,” Byriel stated, “But we’ll have to work quickly.”

“Just tell me what we have to do.” Byleth looked determined.

He grimaced a bit, hating that it had to resort to this, but lacking any other option he went forward with his hastily stitched plan. Divine Pulse worked its magic and a minute reversed, he, Byleth, and everyone else back in the positions they were in at that time.

As Ingrid approached, looking panicked much like before, Byriel turned to the blonde student, “We need you to get close and throw that lance at Lonato’s horse.”

Byleth looked to her brother, eyes wide with shock, “What?”

Ingrid grimaced at the thought, and Byriel immediately felt bad. He didn’t want to do this, but if it were between the horse and Ashe, he would choose the latter.

“It’s our only shot, Ingrid.”

The knight clenched her fingers over the lance, “I’ll do it, but surely someone like Dimitri could do it more efficiently, right?”

“We don’t have time, I’m sorry.” Byriel could see Ashe talking to Lonato, and figured they had only moments left.

Ingrid relaxed her grip a bit and set her expression, “Alright.”

The knight began to rush forward, both professors keeping close behind and fending off any would-be attackers. Byriel had no heartbeat, but he could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

They were half-way across the field when Byriel saw Lonato deal the same painful attack to Ashe’s back. As he and Byleth held off several attackers, they had no need to give the order to Ingrid.

Seeing that her fellow student was in peril, Ingrid withdrew a javelin from her small collection of weapons. She pulled her arm back, green eyes locked on Lonato’s horse as he prepared the final blow, and threw it with as much might that she could muster. 

As the weapon shot through the air, Byriel realized he was holding his breath. Silently, he sent a prayer to whatever goddess watched over Fódlan that Ingrid’s aim would be true, and to spare the life of their student.

There was a loud, stomach-churning _ thunk _ as the javelin found home in the side of Lonato’s horse. The animal let out a horrible scream of pain, rearing back on its back legs and throwing its rider off balance. Lonato was unable to get the horse under control, and let out a cry as the animal collapsed, taking him down with it.

Ashe, still on the ground with his fresh wounds, was shocked into silence at the accuracy of the attack. Ingrid ran to his side and, with very little trouble, was able to pick up the smaller boy in her arms and run up to Byriel with him.

“Professor, can you heal him?” She asked, her voice mostly steady but still quivered with fear and panic.

“Let me see him,” Byriel stated, his hands already glowing.

Ingrid still held the smaller student but shifted her hold on him enough so that Byriel was able to lay his hands over the silver-haired student’s back and start the process of healing. He was feeling a bit groggy now, likely a result of him having to heal so frequently this difficult battle, but he pushed forward, refusing to make a careless mistake due to feeling tired.

“Ingrid…” Ashe muttered, his face against her shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” She bit the inside of her cheek. 

Byleth looked visibly distraught, “Ashe, why would you go into a fight like that alone? You could’ve been killed if we hadn’t gotten to you in time!”

“I thought I could stop him.” Ashe’s voice choked on the words.

The blonde knight didn’t berate him any further, instead just holding him steady while Byriel halted the bleeding and closed the wound as best he could.

“It’s temporary, but you won’t bleed out,” Byriel stated.

“Thanks, By.” Byleth sighed, relieved.

“I didn’t fix it completely,” He reiterated, “He needs to stay off the battlefield until Manuela can look at him.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Ashe muttered, pale green eyes lined with despair.

Ingrid nodded, “Yes, thank you. I’ll get him away from the battle.”

“Please do.” Byleth nodded, giving her permission.

“N-No,” Ashe protested, struggling a bit to free himself, “I can still fight-!”

“Ashe, you’re still wounded!” Ingrid shook her head, holding him tighter so he couldn’t break away from her.

“But I-!”

“_ Ashe _!”

The silver-haired boy went quiet upon seeing Ingrid’s set, and somewhat intimidating glare, “I know that this fight is painful for you. I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling right now. But I won’t let you get yourself killed like this! I will not stand by and watch someone cut you down without even flinching, regardless of who they are! I will protect you, even if it’s from yourself, Ashe!”

Ashe was quiet, guilt spreading across his face at the sight of distress on his fellow student’s face.

Ingrid gave a set look to the professors, “I’ll take him further back for Mercedes to look at, carry on without me.”

Byleth nodded, “Thank you, Ingrid.”

The blonde student took off past them, heading more towards where Mercedes lingered and out of harm’s way.

Byriel sighed, relieved, “W-We did it.”

“We can’t relax now,” His sister drew up her sword, “We’re out of Divine Pulses for today, so we have to make sure that no one else gets killed.”

He nodded, drawing up his own sword and facing the fight. The odds had turned in the favor for them, as the majority of the militia following Lonato were down to a small handful being cornered and taken down easily by groups of students.

From where Byriel stood, however, he could see Lonato begin to rise again. How he had managed to avoid being crushed under the weight of his own horse was a miracle in itself. As the old man got to his feet, weapon ready, Byriel saw a flash from beside him.

Before he could register it, he saw Lonato raise up his own weapon and block an incoming attack. Catherine had her sword pressed to his lance, struggling to overpower the old man. But Lonato, as he had just proven, could take a lot more.

“Vile woman-!” Lonato thrust his lance upwards, breaking the hold and forcing Catherine to step back.

“Give up, Lonato,” She ordered, pointing Thunderband at him, “You’re outnumbered and outmatched!”

“Never,” He glowered at Catherine, “As long as there is air in my lungs, I will fight you and everything that your Church of Seiros stands for!”

Catherine’s expression set in stone, “Tyranny against the church is tyranny against the goddess herself.”

“Then I will defy your goddess! The goddess whose name you took my son away in!”

She didn’t respond, tightening her grip on her sword.

“For my child, and for the people of Fódlan, I will not stop until the wretch that wears the face of the archbishop begs for the mercy you never gave to my son!”

His lance clashed against Catherine’s sword, which she blocked easily.

“So be it.” Catherine swung her blade through the air.

The two’s blades clashed, again and again, metal colliding against metal. Catherine was agile, fast, and well-trained in her art, but Lonato was a man obsessed and unlikely to give up easily. Lonato raised the lance above him, ready to strike her down, but then stopped as his eyes widened. Byriel was confused at first but quickly realized that an arrow had been fired and lodged into his back. The old man stumbled and then fell motionless to the ground, blood pooling under him.

“That vile woman,” He breathed, “Christophe… Forgive me.”

He spoke no more after that. Ashe’s hand shook as he lowered the bow, tears streaming down his face as he dropped it to the ground.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

Imperial Year 1173

Ashe

╚═════════ ∘◦ ➴ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Ashe felt paralyzed, his heart pounded so much he thought it was going to break through his ribcage. _ Immediately, he remembered the merchant’s threats of having Ashe horsewhipped, but would this man do something worse?

The older noble still stared at Ashe, “Well, I’ve heard of art thieves. But I don’t think I’ve ever heard of book thieves. How did you get in here?”

“P-Please,” Ashe begged, it was all he could think to do, “P-Please, I’m sorry. I-” He tried to think of an excuse, but he had been caught red-handed.

The noble walked over to where the book had fallen, Ashe feeling so terrified that his legs felt rooted in place.

“I was wondering where I put this one,” the old man stated, picking up the book and brushing dust and dirt off the cover, “Must’ve been buried under everything.”

Ashe braced himself, expecting to be struck across the face again.

“Your eye is bruised. By the looks of it, you’ve been through a lot. And yet you seem so young.”

The silver-haired thief was confused by the sympathy in the man’s voice. The old man gave Ashe a curious look, “What is your name?”

“I-It’s Ashe…” He squeaked out, “I-I didn’t mean to… I just needed enough for-” His voice hitched, thinking that he was going to die likely by the hands of this noble and his siblings were going to starve to death soon after.

“Enough for what?”

“M-My brother is sick…” Ashe sobbed, the weight of everything being too much, “I-I just needed enough for medicine and I got distracted by your book…”

The older noble frowned, “I see…” He looked down at the book briefly, then held it out to Ashe.

The boy was confused at the gesture, “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve no need for it anymore. My son claims he is too old for such fairy tales, so it’s done nothing but collect dust.”

Ashe stared at the cover, the same beautifully painted knight and green-haired woman staring back at him, and he hesitated.

“I-I can’t,” Ashe shook his head, “I can’t even read it.”

“Well, it should at least be worth enough for your brother’s medicine.”

“N-No!” Ashe suddenly cried, “I-I mean, I couldn’t sell such a beautiful book…”

For the first time, the old man smiled a bit, “It truly is. This one is called Loog and the Maiden of Wind. Have you heard of it?”

He shook his head, “I-I don’t know many good stories.”

“This one is about old Loog and his adventures, one of over a hundred I would imagine. It was my son’s favorite, and it was one of mine as well. I prefer it to others, but most of his stories are the same. A knight saves a maiden in distress from a monster of some kind, or a group of heroes goes off to pursue a grand quest of some sort.”

Ashe frowned, “That sounds boring…”

The old noble laughed, and Ashe felt the last bit of tension vanish, “Perhaps a little, but that is why we make new stories. Things change, after all. Knights are not always good and monsters are not the villains in their own eyes. Most maidens don’t need to be rescued, at least not the ones that are worth something, and most battles are not about good and evil. We all tell our own stories, you have your own and so do I, and we are a part of everyone else’s. They’re a lot more complicated than they used to be in old Loog’s time.”

“It sounds complicated…” Ashe frowned, “But why are you telling me this?”

“Hm, perhaps it’s because I am old and have had very few people to talk to,” the noble shrugged, “My son is attending the Officer’s Academy with dreams of becoming a knight himself, so it’s nice to speak to someone other than myself about these wisps of thoughts I have.”

Ashe smiled a little, but only for a moment before he felt a sting in his lip from where the merchant had punched him.

The noble frowned, and walked over to where the ornate box had fallen to the floor and set it back on the table, “Your brother, is he older or younger?”

“Y-Younger,” Ashe’s gaze watched as the old man set the box back to its original place, “He’s only four…”

“Is he your only sibling?”

“No… I have a younger sister too,” Ashe felt his heart sink, fearing that all of this talk was built up for his inevitable punishment, “Our parents died from the disease outbreak five months ago…” 

“And you take care of them both alone?”

He nodded, feeling tears burning his eyes.

“You have my deepest condolences. How very knightly of you to take care of them, Ashe,” Lonato opened the box, “Though I can’t say that it’s very knightly to steal.”

“I-I’m sorry, it was all I could think to do,” Ashe cried, tears finally escaping down his cheeks, “I can’t read, and the work I do get isn’t enough.”

The old noble looked back to Ashe’s face, “And I assume that those bruises were caused by a fight?”

“I was caught…”

There was a softness in the old man’s face, “I see.”

“Are you going to turn me in, sir?” Ashe asked, unable to prolong the possibility any more.

“For what? For reading a book? Nonsense,” The old noble shook his head, “And Lonato is fine. No need for any formalities.”

“Then… then what will you do?” Ashe asked, terrified.

Lonato rummaged through the box and withdrew a small leather bag from a collection of them. He held it out to Ashe, who hesitated.

“This should be enough for your brother’s medicine. There’s an apothecary on the main street that opens at sunrise, and while it isn’t the cheapest, this should be enough. You won’t find anything better than their wares.”

Ashe was shocked, “B-But I-”

Lonato also quickly scooped up the book of Loog and the Maiden of Wind and held it out to Ashe, “And you are more than welcome to keep this. I certainly don’t need it anymore.”

“But why…?” Ashe asked, begging for an answer, “I broke into your home, I’ve stolen from so many people, why are you being so kind to me? I don’t deserve that!”

“I would beg to differ,” Lonato stated, “Your siblings need you, do they not? You’re very kind yourself, taking care of them as best you could. Though perhaps not through the best of means, but I suppose it is justified in your story, Ashe.”

“M-My story?”

“You are a hero in your own story,” Lonato smiled a bit, “And it would be a shame for it to end so sadly.”

He stared down at the book and money. Was this a dream? Was this some kind of joke? After facing so much bitterness and hatred, scraping for whatever he could grab if it meant to save his siblings from starvation and suffering, it felt too good to be true.

Did he even deserve such a gesture from such a kind old man?

With shaking hands, Ashe took the book and leather bag, the weight of them heavy in his arms. He felt like he was going to cry again.

“Thank you, Lonato…” He sniffled.

The old noble smiled.

“I-I have to go,” Ashe stated wiping his eyes with his sleeve, “I-I’m sorry, but I need to get that medicine.”

“Well, by all means, you are free to go,” Lonato walked over to the table, taking a seat and picking up a different book to read, “I assume you know the way out?”

Ashe felt his face burn with shame at the statement, despite the old noble meaning it in light humor. As Ashe began to walk towards the door, Lonato looked up.

“Ashe.”

The boy froze and turned back to the noble, “Y-Yes?”

“If you are unable to read, you may come back here with your siblings and I will teach you personally.”

Ashe’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, “Wh-What?”

“I would be happy to teach you how to read,” Lonato nodded, “You would be able to get more respectable work with that much, at least. I do not want to see you with so many bruises again from stealing. Come back in the morning, and I can teach you how to read that book you have.”

The silver-haired boy held the book closer to his chest, staring at Lonato. At that moment, he was reminded of the illustration of Loog and how, even without reading the words, Ashe knew that the knight was a kind and noble person.

The kind of person that Ashe wished he could be and wanted to be rather than a thief.

“I will. Thank you so much, Lonato.”

The old man smiled, “You’re welcome, Ashe.”

Ashe left the door open as he walked towards the front door. He didn’t want to linger too much and take for granted any of Lonato’s trust and compassion. No guards stopped him as he walked through the front gates, and turning back at that castle-like mansion he could see the glow of a single candle from the library Lonato sat in and wondered if the old man was watching him leave.

As the sun began to peek over the horizon, Ashe ran as fast as his feet could carry him. Holding the book and money tightly, as they were a precious lifeline he couldn’t bear to let go of. The apothecary mentioned by Lonato was just starting to open its doors when Ashe ran up to the woman at the counter, out of breath and shaking as he sputtered what he needed. The woman, considerably friendlier than any apothecary Ashe had gone to before this, took the bag of money he gave her and returned with two blue glass bottles with stoppers in them.

Ashe had never carried something with as much care as those bottles of medicine, holding them against his chest under the book of Loog, all the way back to the shack that he called temporary home.

Juniper was awake, already at the table sewing away, and she looked surprised to see Ashe as he crawled through the window.

“You’re back!”

Without saying anything, running on pure instinct, Ashe ran to Rowan’s side and checked the boy’s temperature. His forehead still burned hot, but Rowan still breathed.

“Big brother?” He asked, coughing again.

“I’m here,” Ashe smiled, pulling his baby brother to a sitting position and biting off the stopper to the first bottle of medicine and spitting it aside, “Junie, get me a spoon, please.”

“You got the medicine?!” Juniper jumped from her seat, scrambling through their things to find a spoon and handing it to Ashe.

“I did,” He nodded, pouring a spoonful for Rowan. It smelled like fish and other putrid herbs, and his brother noticeably scrunched up his nose at the scent.

“Please, this will make you feel better Rowan…” Ashe tried not to sound desperate.

His baby brother looked reluctant, but ultimately caved and swallowed down the bitter concoction with a gag. Ashe was even able to coax him to take another spoonful, and already the coughing had begun to fade.

“But how?” Juniper asked, her eyes wide with relief at their sudden turn of fortune, “And what’s that book?”

Ashe smiled, setting the book down and pulling his sister close in a half hug. Tears ran down his cheeks as he held his two siblings close.

“Things have changed. And they’ve changed for the better,” He sobbed, “I-I… I have done things I’m not proud of, but I hope to be the knight that you deserve someday.”

“What are you talking about?” Juniper asked, pulling away to look at her brother’s face, “Ashe, you’re crying!”

He laughed, wiping at his tears, “I-I’m happy, Junie. I’m just happy.”

Rowan sat up, tugging at his brother’s sleeve, “Big brother?”

Ashe scooped up his baby brother in his arms, “Junie, grab your shoes.”

“What?” She asked, standing up and looking confused, “But what about work?”

He shook his head, “Today we’re going to learn how to read.” 

She still stared at him with confusion, and Ashe took her hand in his own, “I will tell you the whole story on the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: Damn this was a very sad and depressing chapter to write. ;_; Next one won't be as sad probably! Thank you all so much for reading! Inspiration for what the Maiden of Wind in the story looks like comes from this absolutely beautiful drawing of Sothis done by @EvaBeeSmith on Twitter!
> 
> https://twitter.com/EvaBeeSmith/status/1214538594989285376
> 
> Thank you all, and we'll see you next week! Expect some sewer goblins!
> 
> EldritchGremlin: Also a later note from me! I changed my user to Lady Vanitas, so I'll be referring to myself as that from now on :>


	22. Chapter 21: The Things That Haunt Us

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-One ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ The Things that Haunt Us ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ “I never thought I’d see Lonato meet this fate,” Catherine stated, looking grim. _

Byleth turned to face Ashe, who was still knelt on the ground. Ingrid shortly came up behind him, out of breath.

“I-I’m so sorry, professor. I wasn’t paying attention and he slipped away.”

“Ashe…” Byleth was shaking, “Ashe, why did you ignore my orders?! You could’ve been killed! Why?!”

The silver-haired boy swallowed, “I-I couldn’t let the person who killed Christophe kill him too… it was the only thing I could do…”

Byleth froze up hearing those words. A quick glance at the rest of the battlefield, and she saw that without their leader, the few remaining civilians were starting to lose morale and hope. At this point, it wouldn’t be too much longer before they were all finished.

“Ashe… ” Ingrid looked heartbroken.

“Why… Why did this happen?” Ashe asked Byleth, tears still staining his cheeks, “Lonato was always such a kind man and everyone in the village was so nice to me. And I-” He choked on the words, “I killed them! I killed them all!”

“You had to,” The professor clenched her fists so hard that her nails left little crescent-moon marks in her palms, “If you hadn’t, you’d be dead… they didn’t care that you were raised by Lonato, they were willing to kill you if you got in the way.”

_ Lonato didn’t even flinch when he cut you down. He was so determined to achieve this mad goal of his that he was willing to kill you. _

“I know that!” Ashe wiped furiously at his face, “But still… What does that make me?”

Ingrid gripped his shoulder tightly, “Don’t shovel this guilt on your back, Ashe. You did what you had to do.”

The silver-haired boy looked back at his fellow student, his bitter tears starting to slow seeing the look of equal guilt on Ingrid’s face.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bothering you,” He hung his head, “And I’m so sorry for disobeying your orders, professor. I will accept any punishment you believe I deserve.”

Byleth’s throat felt tight, having no more energy to yell anymore. She shook her head, “I-I’ll come up with something when we get back to the monastery…”

He nodded, rising to his feet and putting his bow away, “I-I know I have no right to ask, but I need to check on the town. I need to know if my brother and sister are okay.”

Ingrid stood up herself, “I can go with him, professor.”

She nodded, “That’s fine. Just be back as soon as you can.”

“I will,” Ashe began to walk away, Ingrid following behind.

Byleth took a step after them and froze, “Ashe.”

He stopped, turning back to the professor, “Y-Yes?”

She struggled for a moment, then said, “I… I think you did what Lonato would’ve preferred. I know that doesn’t mean much, but please don’t let this weigh heavily on your shoulders.”

Ashe stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he exhaled a long, prolonged breath, “I hope so too, professor.”

And with that, he left with Ingrid.

With adrenaline finally dissipating in her veins, the pain of the cuts and injuries returned with a vicious sting. Her left leg was feeling tight as well and she wondered that if she took another step, she would collapse. She certainly felt like collapsing after this. Along with that, there was a horrible, metallic-like taste that lingered on her tongue. A taste similar to blood, but heavy with the scent of iron. 

Another glance at the battlefield, and it was very clear that the dust had settled; what enemies weren’t dead were being surrounded by Catherine’s knights, defeat prominent in their expressions.

“Well done, everyone,” Catherine yelled out to the battlefield, “Let’s gather our troops and go.”

Byleth spotted her twin, busy checking over Caspar and his remaining injuries while Linhardt helped. She took a few slow steps, careful to put less weight on her sore leg, and made it by his side just as Ferdinand and Hubert did as well.

“Damn it!” Caspar cried, his hands shaking, “It was all so pointless, I’ve never seen so many people utterly heartbroken…”

“Hold still, Caspar,” Linhardt stated, his hands glowing with magic as he started closing up one particularly deep-looking scar.

“How can I?! None of this feels right!”

Ferdinand shook his head, “Forcing innocent citizens to risk their lives… that man was not a noble, but a monster.”

Hubert, on the contrary, looked deep in thought, “What could have pushed Lord Lonato to this point?”

_ Lonato’s son… _

Byriel rose to his feet, “You’ll be fine, but no more running headfirst into battle until Manuela can look these cuts. Same for everyone else.”

“What about you, professor?” Ferdinand asked, looking at Byriel with a concerned expression, “You’re covered in burns.”

Her brother had parts of his shirt burned away, revealing bright pink and red patches of scarred skin covering him. His nose had traces of dried blood by it, and he looked weary and tired.

“By, you should rest for a moment. You look really beaten up.” Byleth wrapped her fingers around his arm, careful not to touch any of the fresh injuries.

He wiped at his nose, “Lin, I hate to ask this of you, but could you…?”

Linhardt nodded and began to heal Byriel, trying his best to avoid looking at the blood. Admittedly, Byleth didn’t know the student very well. She knew Caspar, he was loud and full of energy, especially when it came to lessons relating to combat. Linhardt, other than him being present at every magic seminar that Byriel had conducted thus far, was still very much a stranger to her. The only thing she really knew about him was that he tended to fall asleep during class, so Byriel would often bring notes to him afterward.

Amazingly, as she watched the student work, the burns seemed to be completely erased the more Linhardt worked on them. Much like Mercedes, the skin left behind was smooth and flawless, but it had even been erased of any old scars or imperfections that Byriel had gathered over the years.

Byriel seemed especially impressed by the work done, watching Linhardt with an intent focus as the student finished erasing the most of the scars.

“How did you do that?” Byriel asked.

“I had a lot of practice,” Linhardt stated, giving a somewhat exasperated glance towards Caspar.

The shorter noble gave a wide grin and laughed, “Yeah, I could always count on Linhardt here to watch my back when we were kids!”

Hubert, breaking from his line of thought, gave Caspar a glare, “You would not need so much healing if you would stop rushing headfirst into battle.”

“I’m not that bad!” Caspar defended.

“No, he’s right,” Linhardt sighed, “I already feel tired from having to heal you alone.”

The smaller noble threw an arm around Linhardt’s shoulders, “Well, at least I can rely on you as much as I hope you can rely on me!”

Linhardt sighed a bit, “I know I can.”

The student pulled his hands away from Byriel, all traces of his burns completely erased. Linhardt yawned, “I feel so tired now…”

Byriel tilted his head a bit, “Thank you, Linhardt.”

“I knew you had potential, Linhardt!” Ferdinand proudly declared, “The righteous path of the noble lies before you!”

Linhardt made a face, looking somehow more tired.

“Professors!”

The two turned towards the sound of their names, seeing Edelgard standing not too far off.

“Come on,” Byleth tugged a bit on her brother’s sleeve, dragging him along to talk to the princess.

“How’s the leg?” He asked suddenly.

“Fine, for now.”

Byriel frowned.

“I swear, I’m fine. Your work is still holding up.”

He sighed, “Stubborn block-head.”

“You’re also a stubborn block-head, block-head.”

Byriel made a face and followed his sister as they approached Edelgard. Out of everyone, she seemed the most composed; her expression was set in stone, but she still carried herself strong.

“Professors, I hope that you two weren’t injured during the fight.”

Byleth shook her head, “Just a few scratches and some bruises.”

Then Edelgard glared at Byriel, though it came off as more adorable than threatening, “You ran off on your own, Professor Byriel! What were you thinking going off alone like that?!”

Byriel shuffled his feet a bit, “I panicked, I had to do something… ”

Edelgard’s face morphed into slight sympathy, but then she shook her head, “Still, I could’ve at least gone with you. If you had gotten killed…” She trailed off, and though it was brief, there was a sadness in her face that was quickly masked away.

“I’m sorry to have worried you like that, Edelgard,” Byriel was sincere in his apology.

The princess straightened, “You are forgiven. This time. But don’t pull something like that again,” She pointed at him, “I still intend to convince you both to join my ranks when I become Emperor.”

Byleth stifled a chuckle and tugged on her brother’s sleeve, “I’m glad there’s someone else watching his back.”

“I’m not _ that _ reckless,” Byriel defended, “And you’re worse than I am, By.”

“No, I’m not.”

“_ Yes _, you are.”

Edelgard smiled a bit, though it was very brief as she examined the battlefield and the carnage that lingered. “Everyone was a bit shaken by the militia fighting alongside our enemies.”

Byleth felt a weight on her shoulders at the mention of what they had done.

“What do you make of this whole ordeal, Professors?” The princess asked.

Byleth bit the inside of her cheek, trying to think of a response; she had been on plenty of battlefields before this point, had killed plenty before this. But this was a fight that made her feel gross in a way. They were innocent people, some with little to no experience with combat, and from what Byleth knew of Lord Lonato, his reasons were understandable.

But then she remembered how Lonato didn’t hesitate to cut Ashe down, and her resolve was stronger. She couldn’t forgive anyone who laid a hand on her students, no matter what the cause was. Then she thought of Jeralt and wondered if he would do the same thing if it happened to him. Lonato was a father and had lost his son in a truly unfair manner. But then again, if it were Jeralt rallying innocent people to go against the arms of the church.

She wondered what her brother thought of it all.

Byriel straightened a bit, “I hate that it had to come to this, honestly. But that is the reality of battle. I’ve seen enough fighting in my life to know that much at least.”

He wasn’t wrong, and she did agree with that part. Still, how very different things seemed depending on what angle you decided to look at it from.

“I’d say the same,” Byleth said, solemnly.

Edelgard nodded, seemingly understanding, “If only everyone could face reality so unflinchingly. The commoners who allied themselves with Lord Lonato believed they were fighting for a just cause, it would be disrespectful to consider them simply victims when they died for what they believed in.”

She raised her chin a bit, “Still, we have no choice but to eliminate those who cling to unreasonable ideas of justice.”

Byriel frowned, “That’s not it completely, Edelgard.”

The princess raised an eyebrow at him, “What do you mean?”

“Maybe not everything can be resolved peacefully,” He stated, “But that doesn’t mean that everything should be resolved by sheer force.”

Byleth was quiet, listening to his words intently. He was always the wiser of the two.

“There are people we won’t agree with,” He explained, “But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t listen to what they are saying either. We don’t have to agree, but we should always listen first before we go to the extreme.”

Edelgard stared at him.

“At least, that’s what I think of it,” He looked over to Byleth, “What about you, By?”

She tilted her head a bit, “I think the same thing, honestly.”

The princess seemed thoughtful, considering something it seemed. Then she looked extremely determined, “I understand your thoughts, Professor. But even if our enemies are the gods themselves, we must never lose sight of our goals.”

“We’re not saying you have to lose them,” Byleth stated, “If you are fighting for something, then fight if it’s just. But don’t forget that words can be much more powerful than any blade, Edelgard.”

“Are you fighting for something then, Edelgard?” Byriel asked.

She pressed her lips together, “I’m Adrestia’s future Emperor, and when I rise to power there are things that I want to change to make things better for everyone in Fódlan.”

Byriel tilted his head a bit, “Huh, like what?”

Edelgard looked a bit surprised, “I never took you for someone interested in those matters, Professor.”

“You’re our student, why _ wouldn’t _ I be interested?” He asked as if it were an obvious question.

She was quiet, though before Edelgard could say anything else Byleth saw Claude approach the three.

“Teach, are you alright?” Claude asked her brother, concern obvious in his face.

“I am,” Byriel nodded.

Claude didn’t look convinced, “What about the burns?”

“Linhardt took care of them.”

The words at least did a little bit to ease the noble’s worries, but Byleth couldn’t help but be a bit confused; what exactly happened when that explosion occurred?

“Good,” Claude sighed a bit, “Still… that fight left a foul taste in my mouth.”

Edelgard looked to the noble, “We did what we had to do.”

“Right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” He gave a slight smile to the professors, “That aside, did you see how Catherine fought?”

Byleth nodded, “She’s incredible.”

“Agreed,” Claude smiled a bit, “I thought the power of the Heroes’ Relics must be exaggerated, but I was clearly wrong.”

Edelgard looked thoughtful, “Even within the Knights of Seiros, Catherine is the strongest. By a large margin from what I’ve gathered.”

“Makes you wonder about that legend, right?” Claude asked the future Emperor.

She frowned, “Legends are merely legends, Claude.”

“What legend?” Byriel asked, raising his eyebrows at the Golden Deer leader.

He shrugged, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the usual fanciful nonsense. An ancient Relic that once cut a mountain in half with a single swing. 

Edelgard rolled her eyes a bit, “It’s merely a legend told to children at night and nothing more.”

“Maybe not! Apparently, Relics can harness tremendous power for those with a compatible Crest.”

Byleth frowned, “Only a compatible Crest?”

“Well, you can _ technically _ use one so long as you have any Crest at all,” Claude made a face, “I dunno. Long story short; I’d like to try cutting a mountain in half someday.”

Edelgard scoffed, “You? Cutting a mountain in half?”

“I think I could do it!”

“Preposterous!” Edelgard scowled, “It’s impossible.”

“I bet _ Teach _could!”

Byriel looked like he was seriously considering the possibility. Byleth sighed a bit.

“Ooh! Are you talking about Relics?”

Byleth looked to Hilda as she approached the group, looking relatively well-put-together considering the battle they had just been in.

“You’ll be able to use one soon, Claude! I just know it! After all, you’ve already been selected as the next head of House Riegan!”

The twins and Edelgard gave Claude a curious look. He sighed, “Easy there, Hilda. I don’t know how apt ‘soon’ is. My grandfather is still unbearably healthy.”

“You’re inheriting a Relic?” Byriel looked surprised.

“Oh?” Claude smiled at Byleth’s brother, “Is this news to you, Teach?”

“It is to me, Claude.” Edelgard crossed her arms, looking intrigued.

The noble had that look again, the one he had when he was scheming something, “Yours truly was recently recognized as a legitimate child of House Riegan. They possess one of the Heroes’ Relics too, though I’ve yet to see it.”

“You haven’t seen it?” Byriel asked.

“I was raised by my father,” He spoke, his words careful, “House Riegan is on my mother’s side of the family. When I learned that my mother was the daughter of an Alliance noble, I was so surprised I thought the whole world was pulling a fast one on me for a week.”

Edelgard pressed her lips into a thin line; Byleth knew that this was well-known information by everyone. She had to give credit to Claude, he had a way with saying words that meant nothing really. His words were carefully crafted, ensuring he never gave away any other personal information that others weren’t aware of. If not for his Crest, Byleth wouldn’t have believed he was the actual heir.

“So, that means your mother is Duke Riegan’s daughter, right? Where is she now?” Hilda asked.

Claude shrugged, “I can’t say! My mother’s currently living in a different world than the one she grew up in and has no desire to return home.”

“Um, okay,” Hilda scowled, “You sure have a lot of secrets, don’t you?”

“I’m just keeping a promise to my parents. Make of that whatever you will. In exchange for my so-called secrecy, I’m free to do as I please, which is why I decided to see what the other side of my family was like. That’s how I found out about this strange Crest I bear… ”

Edelgard stared at him, clearly calculating something in her head. If only Byleth had the ability to hear people’s thoughts.

“But I’m not the only one with secrets, right princess?” Claude smiled at Edelgard.

“At least I’m not the one who keeps attempting to entice the professor.”

Byleth choked, “E-Excuse me?!”

Byriel’s eyes grew to the size of saucers, then blinked and quickly recovered so fast that she was certain she was the only one who noticed and then said, “He’s only enticed me to give him a redo quiz but that’s pretty much it. Did you mean something else, Edelgard?”

_ This sneaky dastard, _ Byleth held back a laugh, _ Has he been tricking Claude that he’s naive to his advances this whole time? _

Claude on the other hand, had the biggest smirk on his face, clearly not catching Byriel’s act of ignorance. Edelgard, also not catching it, looked ready to rip Claude a new one but seemed to decide against it. Byleth wasn’t exactly sure why those two fought over Byriel constantly. It was painfully obvious that Claude was smitten with her brother, to the point where their father would sometimes peek into the Golden Deer classroom when Claude came up to Byriel once classes ended to make sure he didn’t try anything.

As for Edelgard, she wasn’t sure what the Imperial princess felt towards him. Whether he was a mere professor or something else, she greatly respected him and his opinions. On the bright side, however, she felt, at least she wasn’t attempting to flirt her way into Byriel’s pants, unlike the future sovereign duke. 

He’d have to go through Byleth, Jeralt, and Leonie first.

“Professors, Claude,” Leonie walked up to the group, Ignatz by her side and both of their faces grim, “It sounds like the troops will be withdrawing soon. We should return as well.”

Edelgard straightened, “Right, of course. If you’ll excuse me, there are some things that I wish to discuss with my valet.”

“Aw, so soon?” Claude smiled, “And here I thought we were having a lovely conversation.”

The princess rolled her eyes a bit, “Regardless, we shall speak again once we have returned to the monastery. There is something I wish to discuss with you, Claude, in regards to etiquette and the professor.”

With that, she gave a short bow and walked back to Hubert’s side. Though Byleth certainly didn’t miss the glare the valet shot towards Claude as they walked away.

“I get the feeling they don’t like me,” Claude stated flatly.

Byriel merely shrugged, “Well, as long as Hubert doesn’t try to poison your food you shouldn’t be too concerned.”

Byleth wasn’t too sure. Hubert didn’t seem like the type of person one wanted to get on the bad side of, even by a little bit.

Her brother turned to Leonie and Ignatz, frowning at their solemn expressions, “Are you two alright?”

Leonie nodded, “Yeah, as alright as we can be.”

Ignatz shook his head, “We won. We should be celebrating, but instead, we’re heading back with heavy hearts.”

“Whoa there!” Claude gave an encouraging grin to the two, “What’s the matter? You two look as sad as a kitten without any yarn. If we hadn’t done what we did, the rebel army would have followed this road all the way to the monastery and they would’ve crushed all the little villages along the way. We stopped that from happening, you should be proud.”

Byleth felt a pit in her stomach. Was there really anything to be proud of after this?

She shook her head and sighed, “You’re not completely wrong, I suppose…”

Remembering that Ashe and Ingrid were still away, Byleth decided it would probably be best to find the two.

“I need to find my students,” She said to Byriel, “I can catch up with you later, alright?”

Her brother pouted slightly, “No way, I’m coming too. I want to check up on everyone else.”

“By,” She scowled a bit, but then her expression relaxed, “Alright, come on.”

“You need us to tag along?” Claude asked.

She looked right at the noble, “No, I need to speak with my brother for a moment. Professor things that aren’t for student ears.”

Byriel raised an eyebrow, but then looked at Claude, “Can you help round up the other students? I want to make sure everyone is okay.”

The noble gave her a suspicious look, clearly not a fan of being left out of important, confidential information being shared. But before he could protest any further, Byleth grabbed her brother by the sleeve and dragged him along in the direction Ashe and Ingrid went.

“What was that about?” Byriel asked once they were a good few feet out of earshot.

Byleth frowned, “You… You _ do _know what Edelgard meant by ‘entice’, right?”

A frustrated scowl crossed over his usually placid features, “How old do you think I am? Of course, I know what she was talking about.”

“I know,” She shook her head, “But it’s hard to tell with you sometimes.”

“That’s the point, By. I don’t want to lead him on, I’m not supposed to be romantically interested in my student.”

“But you haven’t told him to stop.”

A light blush crossed over his cheeks, “I-I know it’s selfish, but no one’s ever talked to me like I’m handsome or sexy or whatever before. Or had the balls to do it when dad is in the same building and he does it in a way that doesn’t make me want to light him on fire.”

She chuckled a little, “Well, if you like him back-”

“Before you finish that sentence,” Byriel stopped her, “One of the first things Seteth told us was to not engage in ‘unsavory’ activities with our students.”

“Right… ” She pressed her lips into a thin line.

“Besides,” He sighed slightly, looking down, “If I continue to seem too naive, Claude will lose interest eventually. It’s worked with other guys before.”

Byleth immediately felt sympathy for her twin. Romance was hard enough for him being a mercenary, added on his specific tastes and awkward demeanor, he didn’t have a lot of people interested in him or found a lot of people that he wanted to make a meaningful connection with.

Byleth always wanted to make sure that her brother was happy. And if winning over Claude’s heart was what he wanted, then she wouldn’t try to stop him.

“I doubt he’ll lose interest, By. I don’t know Claude _ well, _but I have a feeling he’s into you because of who you are, not because he’s looking for a quick romp or because he wants to slack off and hope to get a good grade out of you.”

Her brother scrunched up his nose a bit.

Byleth tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “And I mean… what Seteth doesn’t _ know _ can’t exactly hurt him.”

“Are you suggesting I break the rules?”

“I-I’m not saying you have to _ break _ any rules,” She explained, “But if there’s anything we learned the past ten years being mercenaries, sometimes you have to _ bend _ rules. Just a little.”

Byriel thought for a moment, seriously considering it, “I don’t know, By…”

“You don’t have to decide anything _ now _, obviously,” She jabbed at his arm, “But it’s something you should think about. I’m sure Claude would find it very attractive if you bent a few rules.”

Byriel flustered once again, but then his eyes went wide, “... I’m going to have to tell him I understood every single dirty joke and sexual implication he’s thrown at me.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” She nodded.

He gave out a laugh, a rare smile crossing his face. But then he looked at her with a blank stare.

“What?”

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

She blinked, “You… you just noticed that now?”

“Well, yeah. I would’ve mentioned it earlier if I did. And you went and got it all cut up too!”

Maybe it was the last bits of adrenaline fading away, or maybe it was the pressure of the fight that had just unfolded, but those words… they were enough to chase away the gloom in the air for a moment.

Byleth burst out laughing, despite trying to cover her mouth with her hands.

“What’s so funny?” Her brother asked.

“You are!” She spoke through her uncontrollable laughs.

Byriel gave her a slanted smile, quickly planting his hand over her head and ruffling her already disheveled hair into a bigger mess.

It didn’t take either twin too long to find Ashe and Ingrid, as they were already heading back to the rest of the Blue Lion class when Byleth and Byriel found them. They didn’t speak too much walking back to the rest of the group, but Byleth noticed that Ashe seemed to walk with a little more ease. Hopefully, it meant that he was successful in finding his siblings and they were alright.

Byriel split away from his sister, going off to rejoin the Golden Deer and leaving her to check over her own students; for the most part, the Blue Lion students had only suffered a few cuts and some ugly bruises. Other than that, they were fine.

“Let’s be on our way, alright?” Byleth nodded to the students.

They all let out a sound of affirmation, most of them looking displeased as to be expected, and began to follow after the rest of the knights.

However, Byleth immediately noticed that Dimitri was lingering behind a bit. His face was lined with regret, and he had remained oddly quiet up to this point.

“Is everything alright, Dimitri?” She asked.

“Hm?” He turned to her, “O-Oh, yes. Apologies Professor, I… I was just thinking.”

“About?”

The prince’s face grew more saddened, “That… That was my first time killing civilians too… Those who I’m sworn to protect.”

Byleth wasn’t surprised to hear that. She frowned, “I know… but that’s just the reality of war.”

Dimitri’s expression recoiled into one of anger, “Are you insane?! Those weren’t knights or soldiers, but fathers and sons! We shouldn’t have killed them, we should have found another way!”

She froze, shocked at the sudden anger in the prince’s voice. Byleth hadn’t ever heard him raise his voice like this.

Immediately, he looked ashamed and turned his gaze to the ground, “I… I’m sorry. It’s not fair for me to blame you for the circumstance. I know that if we hadn’t…” He swallowed a bit, looking sickened by the thought, “Done what we did, even more, civilian lives would have been lost. At least, my mind understands that. But my heart…”

“Dimitri…” She raised a hand to him but paused mid-gesture. Unsure what she was intending to do.

He gave her a stern expression, “Professor… those in power, no matter the era, always claim they fight for a just cause. That they take life to protect it. But is it truly okay to take any life you please, all in service of some implacable ‘just cause’? Lord Lonato didn’t take up arms out of a lust for power, he simply believed his cause to be just. Who’s to say it wasn’t?”

Byleth felt a pit in her stomach, remembering that the church had taken Lonato’s son away from him. But then she remembered Ashe’s face and the life draining out of it, and the feeling went away.

“I’m sure that he had reasons,” Byleth raised her chin up a bit, “And I’m sure they were justifiable in his eyes. But if there was a chance for peace, we wouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” Dimitri looked heartbroken, “But maybe we didn’t have to cut him down like that. Maybe we could have reached a mutual understanding… found that path of peace.”

“Words are powerful weapons, Dimitri,” Byleth stared at him, “But that doesn’t mean that they can cut through every armor. Sometimes people will not always agree no matter how much we want them to, or maybe what they want is simply impossible in the world we have envisioned.”

The prince’s azure eyes darted away from her gaze, “I… I have to believe it. Perhaps the notion sounds laughable to you. Mere lip service to naive ideals, but I can’t believe otherwise.”

Her hand finally found a place, falling over his arm in a gesture meant to be comforting. At least, Byleth hoped it was comforting to him.

“P-Professor?” He looked caught off-guard at the motion.

“I agree with you in that we should always try to find a peaceful solution before we resort to violence,” Byleth stated, “But words cannot always bring us to that ending. Sometimes the only way to have peace, or something resembling peace, is to take up our weapons.”

He stared at her, his gaze unreadable to Byleth. She had no idea if he would listen to what she had just said, but she hoped that he’d at least consider them.

“Your arm, professor.”

“Huh?” She looked down at her arms, realizing that she had forgotten to have Linhardt or Byriel patch up the cuts. While most of them had stopped bleeding, one cut in particular that was likely received during the ambush was much deeper and still bleeding. After being neglected for so long, blood had stained through the dark fabric of her shirt, and it had begun to cling to her skin.

“I didn’t even realize I was hurt…” She frowned, rubbing at the bits of dried blood and pulling at the fabric.

Dimitri, likely on impulse, pulled at the edge of his blue cloak and was easily able to rip off a long strip of dark blue fabric.

Byleth startled a bit, “Y-You didn’t need to do that-!”

“I don’t want you to risk it getting infected before Mercedes can heal it.” He explained, reaching out his hand to her.

Hesitantly, Byleth did and let the prince tie a somewhat crude bandage around the bleeding wound tightly around her arm. For someone so impossibly strong, his gesture was surprisingly gentle.

“I apologize, I’m not the best at this. But I hope that it will be enough to stop the bleeding.” He looked bashful as he pulled his hands away.

Byleth examined his work; while not likely something to last the whole day, she felt a warm feeling at such kindness.

A small smile spread across her face, “Th-Thank you…”

Dimitri blinked, surprised at something, then he grinned a little bit himself, “O-Of course, Professor. I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

They were both quiet, Byleth struggling to find her words. But before she could respond, Catherine approached the two of them.

“Sorry to intrude, but this incident may be more serious than anticipated.”

“What do you mean?” Byleth asked.

The knight pulled out a scroll; it was slightly crumpled, but immediately the professor noticed the jewel-like seal on it.

“I found this on Lord Lonato. It’s a note that mentions a plan to assassinate Lady Rhea. We can’t tell who sent it, so the source is suspect. But the content is too disturbing to ignore.”

  
  


꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Yuri

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♟ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Balthus had never been the type to be patient, that much Yuri was aware of _. He was the type to recklessly get into scuffles, which usually came from the fact he didn’t repay his debts. But when it came to watching Yuri play games such as chess, he seemed to take the time to actually sit and watch. The Underground Lord assumed that it was because even Balthus didn’t know what was going on in his brain and thought he could better understand Yuri by watching him.

Or perhaps he was as interested in strategy as was his supposed old friend, Holst. Balthus was by no means stupid, especially when it came to fighting.

Balthus scrunched up his nose, “What does the horse do?”

“It’s not a horse, it’s a knight.”

“It certainly looks like a horse.” Hapi only briefly glanced in their direction.

“Horse, knight, doesn’t matter. What does it do?” Balthus repeated.

Yuri gave a slight sigh, but his opponent, Aelfric, decided to explain it, “It can move two squares horizontally and one square vertically, or two squares vertically and one square horizontally. It makes a sort of ‘L’ shape if you will Balthus.”

“Oh, I get it now,” He nodded and then squinted once again at the board, “Y’know, boss, you’re pretty good at games of chance. I don’t get why you play this hokey-pokey stuck up game.”

“Chess is a game of amusement only those of astute minds can hope to excel in,” Constance gave a laugh, “So, of course, you would blunder so fantastically in such a competition.”

Yuri picked up his remaining rook, “It’s a game of wits. Check, Aelfric.”

“Hm, are you sure about that now?” Aelfric gave Yuri a slight smile and moved his queen forward, lining it right with the student’s king piece.

Yuri laughed, moving his king away, “Adorable.”

“Checkmate,” Aelfric declared, moving a pawn the student had forgotten about into place, utterly trapping Yuri.

The underground lord made a face, his eyebrow twitching slightly while Balthus’s eyes grew wide and he gasped, “How did he do that?!”

“You baited me.” Yuri stated, his tone bitter.

“I wouldn’t say I ‘baited’ you,” Aelfric laughed, “If you had paid more attention to that pawn, you could’ve beaten me.”

“Well then,” He sighed, “I’ll just beat you next time. I won’t be easily fooled by that trick again.”

“I certainly look forward to it,” The cardinal stood up from his seat and gathered up his books, “Now, unfortunately, I have things to attend to with the archbishop so we’ll have to continue lessons tomorrow. But for now, read what I’ve given all of you and practice your magic.”

“Sure.” Hapi shrugged.

“Easy enough,” Yuri stated.

With that Aelfric gave the class one more smile, then took his leave through Abyss.

“My my, Yuri,” Constance gave another one of her over the top laughs, “It’s flattering that you lost for my own beguilement!”

Yuri narrowed his eyes, studying the board, not paying much attention to her words. Every piece left on the board was a relic from the game they had played, a reminder of every move he had made. While he had the upper hand for a bit, Aelfric had won in the end by using sound strategy and a bet that Yuri wouldn’t have noticed that little pawn. It had been successful and now the underground lord just had to learn from the experience and develop a tricky way to win a close game such as that.  
“That was a pretty close game,” Balthus picked up one of the pieces, small and delicate in his strong hands, “And it was almost exciting too, for a high-strung noble game.”

“Huh,” Hapi raised an eyebrow, showing only slight interest, “Never thought you lost board games, Yuri-bird.”

“I’ve never beaten Aelfric at chess,” Yuri conceded, not too terribly upset at the loss.

But he was definitely more determined to beat him the next time, whether it was chess or something else. He began to put the pieces away, setting the board aside to use for another time and standing up, looking at the Ashen Wolf classroom. It had been cleaned up slightly in the past few days, but they still had a long way to go before it could be called ‘orderly’. Yuri usually didn’t mind messes, but he definitely wanted the Abyss to be more cleaned up. He had only been there for about two years, but it was clear it was in need of being better restored. It certainly was a dark hole where all the bad people of society hung around, but even they didn’t deserve to live in an unsafe area.

This was a city where those who were abandoned could find sanctuary.

Yuri stood up from his desk and stretched out his tired limbs, “Well, if we’re done here, I have some things to attend to.”

“Like what?” Balthus asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about, friend.”

Balthus narrowed his eyes once again as if studying the boy who called himself the Savage Mockingbird. Balthus knew that ‘Yuri’ wasn’t even his real name and almost everything about him was a mere facade, a carefully constructed mask. And that was the way Yuri preferred things to be, his fellow classmates and comrades didn’t need to know who he truly was. There was someone he wanted to protect and his enemies didn’t need to know his true identity.

The leader exited the classroom, making his way through the dim stone pathways and towards Abyss’s thriving underbelly. It seemed busier today, more than usual at least, likely due to a new wave of people making their way into their corner of the world for safety. Yuri made his way down to the busy marketplace street, bustling and lively as per usual. He walked down the stairs, but almost immediately slammed into someone before he could step into the busy marketplace.

There was a yelp, and immediately the stranger fell backward and slammed the back of his head into the last step. A case full of papers falling open and scattering the contents over the steps.

“Ah, I-I’m so sorry!” The stranger cried out.

Yuri stumbled slightly, but quickly recovered, “No need to apologize, are you alright?”

The stranger looked up, and immediately Yuri realized that this stranger had gold-colored irises that seemed to gleam in the dim light like a cat’s would.

“M-Me? Um, yes. I’m fine…” He mumbled, seemingly shrinking within himself out of shame, “I’m really sorry, I was distracted and…”

Yuri smiled a bit, “Like I said, no need to apologize. I don’t think I’ve seen you in Abyss before.”

The stranger blinked, “I’ve never been, I-I mean I was told to come here by a friend for protection…”

“From who?” Yuri asked, analyzing the jittery stranger for any traces of him lying. The stranger was oddly pale, Yuri noted. As if this boy had spent his entire life underground. Even his brown hair seemed abnormally pale. But other than the unusual paleness he carried, he didn’t seem like an assassin or thief; his features were soft and kind, boyish even, and he wore simple commoner clothing and didn’t carry any weapons on him. 

He swallowed a bit, “I-I’m hiding, I guess. From people who want my head. It’s complicated…”

“You look far too cute to have pissed off nasty people who want you dead,” Yuri gave a laugh, “But I suppose things happen. You’re always welcome here, friend.”

“Wh-What?” The stranger’s cheeks suddenly flared up.

From beside Yuri, he spotted one of the torches suddenly flare up and go out. Likely a result of the wind, but still abnormal enough for him to make a mental note of it.

The stranger began to frantically gather up his scattered belongings, most of it being several journals and papers, but also a few being glass vials of various colors that managed to survive the drop.

“Who are you exactly?” The stranger asked, blowing off a bit of dust that had gathered on the cover of one of his journals, “You can’t be much older than I am… right?”

“I’m Yuri, I’m sure you’ve heard that name before since you’ve come down here.”

“Y-You’re Yuri?! But you’re so pretty-” He caught himself, “I-I mean, I thought the Underground Lord was a really scary, grizzled old warrior.”

The lord laughed, “I’m flattered. So what should I call you?”

“Me?” The stranger bit the inside of his cheek, clearly thinking and eventually deciding on something, “Um… you can just call me Anacharsis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lady Vanitas: Hello everyone! I know everything seems a little dark and frustrating at the moment considering the pandemic, but we want you all to stay safe and strong, we're all going to be okay :> Learn more about the virus through reputable sources, stay inside, and stay safe. We love you all and we can't wait to see you next week >:^)


	23. Chapter 22: The Things We Hold Dear

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-Two ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ The Things We Hold Dear ⋅ ✦

* * *

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Imperial Year ????

Seteth

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_ Though Faerghus was a place that remained bitterly cold through the early spring, it wasn’t enough to keep him from standing on the shore of the Rhodos Coast, fishing rod in hand and watching the waves carefully. _

“Any luck yet?”

Cichol looked over his shoulder and spotted a human woman holding the hand of a small girl with hair the color of spring leaves. In her other hand, she had her own fishing rod and carried a leather bag on her back likely filled with supplies.

He frowned, “Nothing I suppose.”

The human woman eyed the full basket of bait by his feet, “You’ll never catch anything if you don’t put anything on your line, dear.”

Cichol sighed, “It seems that I rarely catch anything, even _ with _bait.”

“Aw, that’s not true, you just need the right one. Let me see the line for a moment?”

He resigned, passing her the line as she let go of the small girl’s hand. Immediately, the child ran towards the waves and started splashing around the cold water, laughing with delight.

“Don’t go far, Cethleann.” He warned, watching the toddler like a hawk while the human woman took the line and carefully baited the line.

“You’d think she was a fish herself.” The woman laughed, delicate fingers threading the hook with a small worm as easily as one might string a bow. When the line was baited, she held the rod back out to him, “Try it now, dear.”

He did, taking the rod and casting the line far into the waves with one easy swing. The waves crested over themselves, slowly crawling over each other to meet his feet, only to give up and retreat back into the sea and repeat the cycle again. It was a relaxing sight to behold, one that he could watch for hours at a time and one that was made better with the company of the two most important people in his life.

“Are you happy, dear?”

He looked over to the human, confused, “What do you mean?”

She stared out at the waves, “I know I’m only human. That you’ll live long after I’m gone, and I must seem so small in comparison to you… ”

Cichol slowly brushed his hand against hers and held it gently, “I am happy. No matter how much time passes, I will always love you. I will cherish every moment with you and remember it for eternity. And one day, we will be together again. Not even I will live forever.”

He felt her grip tighten a little. Then she smiled back at him, though it was lined with sadness. “In that case, I’ll cherish every moment we have.”

The small girl, soaked to the skin and smiling still, ran back to their sides holding a large, horn-shaped shell.

“What did you find there, Cethleann?” The human woman asked, turning her attention to the child and kneeling to her height.

“The ocean is inside!” She declared eagerly.

Cichol smiled, “Is that so?”

“You can hear it!” The child held the shell up for her father to see.

Humoring his daughter, he took the horned shell and held it up to his ear. Despite the ocean being right in front of him, he could hear the sound resonate in the tan and pink fossil somehow more clearly.

“You really can hear it,” Cichol held it back out for Cethleann to take again, “Hold onto it, that way you can always hear the waves.”

She smiled widely, holding the horn-shaped shell in her hands carefully as if it were a precious treasure.

At that moment, he felt a tug on the line. Focusing back on the task at hand, and after struggling briefly against the surprising strength of the fish, Cichol managed to pull in a rather impressive-sized Teutates herring.

“Fishie!” Cethleann cheered.

The human woman was easily able to unhook the fish, and gave a smile to Cichol, “Well then, dear, shall we go home?”

He took her hand, along with the tiny and delicate fingers of Cethleann, “Yes.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

_ Assassination plots against the archbishop were nothing new to Seteth. _He had put an end to a great number of them in his time as Rhea’s advisor, but that never meant he got used to these things.

“I am glad to see that you two have returned safely,” Rhea spoke to the twin professors, both of them have recently returned with their students, “The goddess gracious with her divine protection.”

Somehow, Seteth doubted that the words meant much to the professors; both of them seemed somber from the moment they returned to the academy.

“But it was not only her divine protection that shielded you, was it? You are just as skilled as I had hoped.”

“Our students deserve the praise,” Byriel stated, “We still have a lot to learn.”

“I am not so sure,” Rhea clasped her hands together, “I heard some of the students were… hesitant about fighting militia.”

The twins were silent, which was all the confirmation needed.

“However, we _ must _ punish any sinner who may inflict harm upon believers, even if those sinners are civilians.” Rhea shook her head, “I pray the students learned a valuable lesson about the fate that awaits all who are foolish enough to point their blades towards the heavens.”

Seteth felt a chill go down his spine at those words, and for a brief moment, the professor’s stoic expressions morphed into one of concern.

The advisor unfolded his arms, “Our real concern is what Catherine reported. The secret message that was in Lord Lonato’s possession. It contained a deplorable plot to target the archbishop on the day of the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth,” He shook his head in disbelief, “The plan seems unrealistic at best, but a threat is a threat. We must maintain constant vigilance. To that end, I would like for you and your students to help with security on the day of the ritual.”

“Won’t that endanger the students?” Byriel asked immediately.

Rhea looked to the professor, “Even if they encounter an enemy whom they cannot best, they should be fine so long as they have you two on their sides.”

Byriel narrowed his eyes for a moment, likely scrutinizing the mindset. But to avoid any arguments, Seteth continued with the details of the mission.

“The Rite of Rebirth is of paramount importance. It is when the Church of Seiros and its believers unite to pray for the return of the goddess.”

Neither professor reacted to the words, likely unaware of how crucial the ritual was. Seteth felt a familiar frustration thinking about just how much Jeralt kept hidden from his children, though that wasn’t something that was the fault of the professors.

“The archbishop and I will be confined to the Goddess Tower once the ritual begins,” Seteth explained, “Of course, the knights will be on high alert as well, but there aren’t enough for them to keep watch on every corner of the monastery. It is far from ideal to be forced to mobilize students, but the gravity of this situation requires that we all bend to avoid breaking.”

“Will you two have anyone guarding you?” Byleth asked.

Seteth straightened, “I will be guarding the archbishop alone.”

Byriel’s eyes widened, the concern clear in his expression, “Alone?”

“Shouldn’t you at least have Catherine close by?” Byleth immediately added on.

Rhea smiled a bit, “While there is no need to fear for our safety, we cannot turn a blind eye to those who would blaspheme so heinously.”

“With any luck,” Seteth crossed his arms, “This will all be for naught. Still, be on your guard.”

Both twins, oddly, still had recognizable concern on their faces.

“That will be all,” Rhea gave one more reassuring smile to the professors, “May the goddess give you both strength for this coming mission.”

At those words, the two were dismissed. However, they didn’t look satisfied with the conditions. Why they would be so over their safety was odd to the advisor; he was old, but he was far from powerless.

He had fought worse enemies than a few potential assassins.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

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Imperial Year 1170

Linhardt

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_ From the moment Linhardt had been introduced to Caspar and his father, Count Bergliez, he had instantly disliked his soon-to-be best friend’s father. _ He was an unfriendly-looking man with a voice like gravel. The way his father, Count Hevring, glared at him with such iciness in his eyes was enough to tell that they did not like each other. But Caspar had been all smiles and friendly expressions, loud but kind, treating him far better than his siblings ever had. His father had no problem with Caspar and any doubts they had were dissipated on one fateful day.

It had been raining for the past few days, a never-ending downpour that pelted the ground with vicious velocity and creating puddles so huge they were like lakes to seven-year-old Linhardt. He was not a fan of the outdoors, admittedly, and his father had no problem with his staying inside during the storm.

Sitting beside the fireplace was warm, the crackling embers making a soothing sound as Linhardt sat on the ground beside his father. Nose buried in a book, he hadn’t been paying much attention to the world around him. Count Hevring sat in the chair he leaned against, his focus on the item he was weaving in his lap.

Linhardt looked much like his father and the older he got the more he would be compared physically to him. Count Hevring was tall and slim, with eyes so dark blue it was staring into the depths of the ocean. His hair was long and a slightly lighter color than Linhardt’s, with streaks of white within it. Quiet mornings in the rain were common in the Hevring Estate, even the servants were silent as they did their chores while the rain continued outside, the sky dark despite it being day.

But the quiet was interrupted by a servant suddenly coming up to the count, “Count Hevring, um…”

Linhardt’s father paused and looked over, “Yes?”

“Count Bergliez’s son, Caspar, is here. He claims he ran here all the way from the Bergliez Estate.”

Linhardt looked up from his book, the sound of his best friend’s name immediately drawing his attention away. Without a second thought, Count Hevring stood up and headed to where the foyer was. He returned within a minute with Caspar in his arms, the boy looking exhausted. He was covered in more bruises than usual and a few cuts, small amounts of blood smeared on his clothes and arms. Hevring set him down beside Linhardt, the blue-haired boy still catching his breath.

“Caspar,” Linhardt furrowed his brow, “Why did you run all the way here?”

“Because my dad said I couldn’t see you..!” He yelled out, “So I went to see you anyway!”

“That was reckless.”

“It was worth it though,” Caspar grinned, despite how beat up and scraped up he was, “I didn’t want you to be here all by yourself.”

Linhardt’s eyes widened and then looked away, glancing down at the book in his lap. Count Hevring came back with a medical kit, kneeling beside the boys and beginning to patch up Caspar.

The young sleepy boy made a face, “Your dad is likely going to be here tomorrow to get you, know you.”

“What matters is he isn’t here right now!” Caspar laughed.

Count Hevring spoke up, his voice calm, “You can stay here as long as you like, you practically live here anyway.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to run all the way back home,” Caspar admitted, “So thank you. By the way, Linhardt’s dad, isn’t there healing magic?”

“Yes, but I’m honestly not good at it.”

“Looks like Lin should try to learn it heh, I get into trouble a lot.”

Linhardt cracked a smile, the book he was reading a beginner’s book to Faith magic, already planning on helping his friend with such means.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

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6/30

Garland Moon

Imperial Year 1180

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_ Linhardt slowly began to stir after a long and deep nap, remembering moments from his past. _Ever since the class began to go to places to face off bandits and other dangerous people to fight and kill them when they returned he immediately went to his room to sleep. He disliked watching the carnage of the fights, the blood, the blades, the sound. This time had been especially bad since he had to raise a hand against someone. He had killed them, to save Caspar. It was worth it but horrifying.

He hated violence. He hated bloodshed. He hated how, no matter where he seemed to go, it never seemed to end. Why couldn’t people resolve their issues by talking like civilized human beings? Wouldn’t it take less energy to just talk rather than to just swing a blade recklessly?

There came a loud series of knocks at the door, loud and sudden enough to nearly give Linhardt a heart attack. Annoyed and just wanting to go to bed, he was about to call out to whoever it was on the other side of the door to leave him alone.

“Hey, Lin! Are you awake?”

Caspar. Loud as ever. Linhardt sighed, getting up and stretching out his sore limbs briefly, and then approaching the door.

The moment the door was open, the tired student was greeted by Caspar’s grinning face. Linhardt frowned, “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Me? No way! I feel fine!” He laughed, though he noticeably winced a bit when he moved his shoulders a bit.

The green-haired student shook his head, “Just watching you makes me feel sleepy. I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait a minute!” Caspar pressed a hand at one of the doors, preventing Linhardt from closing it, “I needed to talk to you!”

“About…?” The tired student waited.

Caspar pulled his hand from the door, “I really appreciate what you did, you know? Back on the battlefield. I would’ve been screwed if you didn’t charge in when you did.”

Linhardt felt his stomach churn at the memory, “I-It’s fine, you don’t have to thank me for anything.”

The shorter student lost his grin, “You alright, Lin? You look a bit pale.”

He didn’t respond, and the air was left stagnant and a bit awkward as neither one said anything.

Then Caspar made a face, looking a bit down, “I know how you get around blood and violence, and I know that it’s not the easiest thing for you to do. But, if it’s anything, I’m glad you did what you did in spite of it.”

“I’m… so glad that you’re alive. I hate violence, but if it’s to keep you safe, I will do it.”

Caspar looked back up at his friend, “Do you need someone to talk to tonight?”

“I’ll be okay, but… if you want, you can stay in my room for a little bit. Your voice, despite its volume, can be somewhat comforting.”

Caspar gave a grin, “Alright! I’ll get us both food and we can hang out together.”

Linhardt gave a smile and opened the door a little wider.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

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Imperial Year 1174

Byriel

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_ Mercenaries didn’t keep people around who couldn’t fight. _

_ Byriel remembered seeing several of his father’s former allies getting severely injured on the battlefield and then disappearing the next morning. A broken leg, a missing hand, if you couldn’t fight then you were left behind it seemed. _

_ Jeralt had explained to Byriel and Byleth that it wasn’t abandoning, rather dismissing. After all, if you couldn’t keep up with the rest, then you were more of a liability when things got dangerous. It was something Byriel understood when he got older, to an extent, but it was something that he didn’t fully get when he was younger. Another thing to argue about with Jeralt. _

_ After the world went dark when he fell down that hill, Byriel didn’t remember much of the journey back. He remembers swimming in and out of a dark, hazy sleep. He remembered, loosely, being carried on Leonie’s back as she sprinted back through the woods. Byriel also remembered the feeling of something warm and wet staining the back of his shirt and face, but other than that he wasn’t able to recall anything else. _

_ The first real clear picture he had was him waking up in bed at the inn he was staying at. His head was bandaged tightly, and he felt like he was going to throw up if he sat up too quickly. _

“You’re alive!”

_ Leonie almost strangled him with the hug she gave Byriel when she noticed he was up. Byleth, for some reason, was also in bed and just waking up next to him. Apparently she also fainted suddenly while practicing sword fighting with Jeralt. _

_ At the sound of Leonie’s cries of relief, Jeralt came in to check on Byriel. For a moment, he seemed relieved. But only for a brief moment before the cold mask came back to hide whatever emotions the mercenary was feeling. _

“Glad to see you up. Watch your steps next time, alright? I’ll grab the doctor, so don’t go anywhere.”

_ Not like Byriel was planning on moving anyway. Regardless, Jeralt got up and left the room quickly. _

“Oh, you dropped this by the way. I cleaned it as much as I could.”

_ Leonie set a book down in front of the boy. One of his books on reason magic that he must’ve been carrying in the woods. He couldn’t remember clearly, but the cover was coated in mud and some bits of dried blood. _

_ Byriel opened the book, checking for any more damage the fall could’ve left. _

_ He felt his stomach drop staring at the pages, and remembered what happened to mercenaries who weren’t useful anymore. _

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

_ In all honesty, the image of Seteth fighting off maybe twenty assassins to protect the Archbishop was something Byriel wanted to see. _Not because he disliked Seteth, of course, but because he had a feeling that the old man could kick ass and dammit, he wanted to see that.

Because he wasn’t feeling extremely hungry, Byriel snuck a few apples out of the kitchen and went back to his room to finish up the work Claude had given him before. The book, which he had been calling the ‘word-salad’ book for the past few weeks, was mostly filled with old church scripts that weren’t very noteworthy. He was hoping that it had something useful, but it seemed as though Byriel was back to square one of the research process.

He had come across _ one _thing that he hoped to talk to Claude about, though it was likely unrelated to anything they were actually looking for. And after carefully putting the crumbling book underneath his cloak, Byriel made the short journey from his room towards the second floor of the student’s dorms.

“Oh hey, Teach!” Claude smiled, seemingly just about to enter his room when Byriel made it to his doorway, “What do I owe the pleasure of you seeing me?”

Byriel held up the old book, “Couldn’t find anything useful. But I found _ something _, I guess.”

“Is that so?” Claude had that scheming look again, “Well, why don’t we talk about it further, Teach?”

He held the door open for Byriel, like a gentleman, and the professor immediately remembered the conversation he had with his sister earlier that day. Along with the advice of ‘bending’ rules.

He pushed the thoughts back into the deepest pits of his head and walked into the room. It was still a mess, not much had changed, though Byriel somehow thought Claude was less like a squirrel hiding nuts for the winter and more like a dragon that hoarded books instead of gold.

“Your room is still a mess,” Byriel stated.

“I got busy so I put off cleaning it.” Claude defended, smiling as he closed the door.

“Doing what?”

“Oh, just some nightly stakeouts.”

“Of _ what _?” Byriel raised an eyebrow.

Claude laughed, “Boring stuff, now tell me what you found.”

The professor frowned, carefully pulling out the book and opening to one passage with a piece of paper next to it and pointing to it, “This one.”

The noble stood closer to Byriel, bright jade-colored eyes scanning over the professor’s somewhat messy handwriting. He was close enough for Byriel to catch the same scent of pine and the still unidentifiable citrus smell.

_ Keep playing dumb and he’ll lose interest By. _ He thought to himself.

Claude had a questioning look as he read aloud, “‘And the four saints and four apostles stood by the archbishop’s side’… who are the four apostles?”

Byriel shrugged, “I have no idea, they were only mentioned in that one sentence. But I would assume that everyone knew who they were at the time, otherwise, there’d be more information explaining who they were.”

The noble looked thoughtful, but Byriel felt a pang of guilt. “Sorry, I know it’s not very useful…”

“It’s a lot better than nothing,” Claude reassured quickly, “I don’t think I would’ve noticed it without you pointing it out.”

Byriel frowned, “What do you think it means?”

“I think it means that I was right about the archbishop hiding something,” He gave a sly smirk to Byriel, “And I think it also means we should find out what it is.”

“Is that what your ‘stakeouts’ have been about?” Byriel asked.

“Something along those lines.”

“Tell me more details.”

“You’re pretty persistent, Teach,” Claude put his hands behind his head, “But I guess I’ll tell you. I’ve spotted a certain guy walking around the Academy grounds at night.”

“A thief?” Byriel’s eyes widened at the thought.

“I think if he was a thief he either would’ve been caught by now or wouldn't be dumb enough to continually visit Garreg Mach, one of the most secure places in Fódlan. Whenever I try to find him, he disappears out of my sight when I chase him to the dormitory area by your sister’s room.”

Byriel immediately tensed at the idea of some creep lurking around Byleth’s room. Not that she couldn’t take care of herself, but the idea still sent a chill down his spine.

“Honestly I wish the ruckus would wake up her neighbor, Dedue,” Claude grinned, “I’d like to see that, not gonna lie.”

“Trust me,” Byriel frowned, “When I find this guy he’s gonna _ wish _ it were Dedue instead of me.”

“Damn, Teach!” Claude burst out laughing, “You can be pretty scary when you want to be.”

“No one messes with my sister or students, or else I’ll light them on fire.”

Claude immediately lost the humor in his face, “Speaking of which, that reminds me of something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes…?” Byriel asked, questioningly.

“Don’t go lighting yourself on fire anymore, Teach,” Claude crossed his arms, “It isn’t good for my health worrying about whether you accidentally cremated yourself or not, and it’s a lot worse for you getting burned as you did before.”

Byriel squinted a bit, “I don’t like seeing people hurting you.”

Claude immediately grabbed the professor by the shoulders, catching Byriel off guard.

“I told you before that I can watch my own back,” He said, his voice controlled but still edged with frustrated anger, “And I especially don’t want you to get hurt defending me, or anyone for that matter.”

Byriel swallowed, “I wanted to be useful…”

“Lighting yourself on fire isn’t being useful! It’s being reckless!” Claude argued, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you ended up getting killed trying to defend me like that!”

The professor felt a pit in his stomach, and hung his head in guilt, “S-Sorry, Claude…”

He sighed, “Don’t apologize, just promise that you won’t do something like that again, alright?”

Byriel nodded, “I won’t. But you also have to swear that you won’t push me away whenever I try to help you in return.”

Claude made a face, “You don’t let up easily, do you?”

“I’m serious!” Byriel almost cried out the words, “I know you don’t trust me as much as I trust you, but you’re still my student! I want to help you, so please don’t leave me behind-!”

He stopped, the words catching in his throat.

The noble looked confused, “Why would I leave you behind-”

The images of what Divine Pulse had erased from history coming back in vivid pictures. He couldn’t tell anyone what he saw without sounding insane, but what Byriel had seen followed him like a ghost. He wrapped his arms around Claude before he could finish his sentence, burying his face into his chest. His emotions welled up and made him feel heavy, but he didn’t cry. He didn’t think he could. But he stayed close to Claude regardless, silent with his heavy thoughts.

“H-Hey, By!” Claude sounded surprised, but he didn’t pull away from Byriel and softened his tone, “Hey… what’s wrong?”

Byriel couldn’t seem to find his voice.

The noble held him closer, “Hey, c’mon… I won’t leave you behind. I’m sorry I raised my voice a bit, you really worried me back there.”

“I know… I’m sorry.”

Claude huffed a soft, quiet laugh, still holding the professor tightly in his arms, “It’s alright. But no more lighting yourself on fire, alright?”

Byriel nodded, his face still buried in the noble’s shirt. It was a nice feeling, being held like this. Byriel wished that he could just stay like this longer, but he was still the noble’s professor and needed to regain composure.

He straightened, pulling back a bit to attempt to make eye contact with the noble, “I-I should probably go.”

Claude moved his fingers over a stray strand of Byriel’s mess of hair, brushing it from his eyes, “Probably. But come back tomorrow, alright? We have a stakeout to do, after all.”

Byriel tensed, “You want me to still help you?”

The noble chuckled a bit, “Without question, By,” He paused, “Ah, sorry, I probably shouldn’t call you that.”

“I don’t mind. Only my dad and sister call me By, so it’s nice to have someone else call me that,” He smiled a bit, “But I also like being called Teach…”

“Then I’ll just call you both.” Claude gave him a slight wink as he let Byriel go.

Byriel felt the heat rise in his face briefly, “I-I should go. But I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

Claude nodded and gave him another smile that made Byriel’s legs feel like they were overcooked pasta, “I look forward to it, By.”

In an attempt to save face, Byriel turned towards the door and left with purpose. Not daring to look back until the door was firmly shut behind him and Claude was no longer in visual sight.

“My my, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that.” Sothis’s voice echoed in his ears.

“Not now, Sothis…” He muttered, his face still feeling flushed with warmth, “I need to focus on being a professor.”

She laughed, “You clearly have affection for the noble. It would do more harm to deny such a fact at this point.”

Byriel glowered at the invisible girl and began walking back down the hall and back towards the stairs. Perhaps when he got back to his room he would hide under the covers for a few years. He hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten, as the hall was almost completely pitch black at this hour.

As Byriel began to approach the steps, his ears suddenly picked up the faint sound of someone crying out… something.

“Fath… Save…”

He paused his steps, turning around to find the source, “Is that… a ghost?”

“No, that is surely not the case,” Sothis stated, seemingly intrigued by the sound.

Byriel frowned, “But you are-”

“What is that look upon your face?” Sothis sounded angry, “I am no ghost if that is what was on your mind!”

He decided it was best not to linger on the thought, and immediately his hand went to the dagger he carried on his hip as he followed the voice to one of the closed doors in the hall.


	24. Chapter 23: Taunting Shadows

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-Three ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Taunting Shadows ⋅ ✦

* * *

Edelgard

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_ Where were the others? What happened to them? They had been with Edelgard, and everything had been fine. _

But now where were they? It was so dark and so cold now. Just a moment ago, she was with her family. She was sitting with them in the gardens by the palace, but now she was in a dark, cold cell that smelled of mold and death.

“Father?” Edelgard called out. But there came no response. She was shaking, “Father, mother? Anyone?”

The door opened, and there was a pale man in dark robes. He smiled, but there was no warmth in his face. As if his expression were nothing but a mask he wore. Instinctively, Edelgard recoiled back in fear.

“Now, now, no need to be afraid.” He cooed, the words mocking in a way. As if she were no child, but an animal about to be hauled off to the slaughter he was trying to trick into false security.

“Come along now.”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“I want to see my father.”

He glowered down at her, and suddenly the room was growing darker, “**Come here.**”

There were hands on her. Hands she couldn’t see, but nevertheless cold and strong like chains, pulling at her arms and legs. She screamed, she thrashed, she cried and begged to be let go but they ignored her.

Someone was giggling in the background, a high-pitched, ugly sound that sounded like a rat’s screeching. “**This one is stubborn. Want me to break a leg so that she’ll hold still?**”

“**Hush hush, don’t scare the poor thing. It makes it harder for me to find a pulse.**”

She was being held down, her back meeting a cold, metal surface that chilled her to the bone. Her arms and legs were frozen now, stiff and unmoving. What was once a dark room now had a single, impossibly bright light overhead. Now, looking down at her, she could see the beasts.

A man with dead, cold eyes and dark robes that smirked as he held her down. Another being an old man with veins in his forehead. And lastly, that man with soulless, colorless eyes and a cloak made of ebony feathers.

“Let me _ go! _” Edelgard cried, “Father, save me, please!”

“El…” 

She craned her head and felt her heart sink. Laying next to her, tied down and pale was her older brother. His hair was streaked with white, and his eyes that were once full of life now reflected back hollow as something burrowed under the surface of his skin.

“El, it’ll be okay…” He reassured, his voice weakened.

Edelgard let out a choked sob, “Otti…!”

There were hands on her face now, her eyes forced to look up into the soulless pits of the leader of this operation. The monster that called himself Thales.

“**Tell me, Edelgard,**” He hissed, “**Do you have the will to survive?**”

“It hurts-! It hurts, stop!” Her older sister Eleanor cried out somewhere, but Edelgard couldn’t see her.

“**Do you have the strength to push forward?**”

There came more screams, one of them belonging to her baby brother that tore through Edelgard. Feeling as if she were a cloth being yanked apart, one strand at a time.

Her eyes fell upon something in his hands; something made of glass that glowed like dying embers and had something inside. Something that looked like thorns, but squirmed like worms escaping the soil that made her stomach churn.

“**Tell me, Edelgard von Hresvelg…Will you be the one that becomes the fire that will burn this country down? Will you become our fury?**”

“Help me, someone! Father, mother, Hubert!” Edelgard sobbed, “Dimitri… anyone, please… ”

“**Close your eyes,** ” Thales hissed, “**And let the Gáe Bulg decide if you are the one who deserves to carry the flames.**”

“No… stop-!”

_ Knock knock. _

Edelgard’s eyes snapped open at the sudden noise and she let out a yelp, “Who’s there?!”

“It’s me.”

Byriel Eisner’s voice came from the other side. Immediately, she pulled herself from bed, evened out her red sleeveless shirt and shorts, and opened the door. Byriel stood on the other side, his face morphed into obvious concern.

“Professor… what are you doing here?” Edelgard asked, surprised to see him at such a late hour.

He bit the inside of his cheek, pulling together his thoughts before he spoke, “I guess I was restless and decided to take a walk.”

“What could _ that _ possibly mean?” She asked. Though then again, she remembered his reaction when she accused Claude of enticing him. While there was no physical proof of the two having such a relationship, she could think of no other reason as to why in the world the professor would be in this section of the student dorms.

She shook her head, dismissing the idea as it was not important at the moment. “In any case, please don’t scare me like that.”

“Why were you crying out like that?” Byriel asked, “Spiders?”

Edelgard frowned, “Why would you think it had anything to do with spiders?”

“Byleth is terrified of spiders and makes me kill them no matter what hour.”

She couldn’t imagine the stoic professor being afraid of anything. But the serious look on Byriel’s face was more than enough of confirmation of the truth. 

She chuckled a bit, “Well, rest assured that I have no such problem with spiders.”

_ Rats on the other hand… _

“Was it a bad dream then?” He asked.

“So you heard me then?”

“Just a bit.”

She sighed, feeling the exhaustion of the day creeping back, “Yes, it was a nightmare. I’ve had them since I was a child. Stupid, pointless dreams I can’t control… it’s terribly frustrating.”

Byriel contemplated something and crossed his arms, “Anything I can help with?”

“No,” Edelgard shook her head, feeling a weight in her chest, “They’re just worthless dreams of the past. Talking about it won’t change a thing.”

“Maybe it can’t,” the professor tilted his head a bit, “But talking about it rather than keeping it caged up might help a little.”

There were those words again he mentioned, about how talking was just as powerful as a sword or axe. She didn’t believe it; if actions weren’t louder than words, then things would’ve been much more different for Edelgard now. She wouldn’t have had to accept the hand of someone like Thales or put up a performance as the Flame Emperor if her dreams and ambitions could be accomplished with a conversation over a cup of Bergamot tea.

Simply put, she did not believe that simply talking about the problem would fix it. But looking into Byriel Eisner’s face, his gentle and almost innocent expression, he had an air of trust to him. Both he and his sister did. The kind of presence that could command authority, but could also be trusting and affable, was something not many people had.

He had gone so far out of his way to lend a hand towards her and the Black Eagle house. Though Hubert still suspected him, Byriel was still endearing enough to convince her somewhat cold valet to have coffee with him in the morning.

Perhaps… he could be trusted with this.

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Edelgard stated, sitting on the edge of her bed piled with blankets, “I suppose I could try, but only if you swear not to tell a soul.”

Byriel pulled out the chair at her desk, turning it to face the princess and sat down. His night-colored eyes met hers, “I swear not to tell another person. Not even Byleth if you don’t want me to.”

She shook her head, “Not even her.”

Not to say she didn’t trust Byleth Eisner. She was just as kind as her brother, but simply put that Edelgard didn’t know if she was someone to be trusted as much. Perhaps she was, though Byleth stood on Dimitri’s side. Byleth, perhaps Byleth was someone Edelgard could grow to trust more. But Dimitri? She wasn’t sure.

“I promise,” Byriel stated, looking completely serious.

The princess twisted her fingers into the soft blankets, her heartbeat pounding at the prospect of opening what she had kept buried and chained away for years now. Her throat felt tight, and the air felt frigidly cold. She inhaled a deep breath and exhaled a few times, hoping it would calm the anxiety a bit.

Then she met his gaze, “I dream of my older brother. Paralyzed and helpless. My older sister crying for help that never came… and the youngest babbling words beyond meaning. I see my family dying slowly, waiting in the darkest depths for a glimmer of light-”

Her voice hitched and she stopped, the nightmares no longer feeling like dreams the more she talked.

Byriel looked sympathetic, “That’s horrible…”

She nodded, “Yes. It is.”

He thought for a moment, “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned having siblings.”

“I suppose not,” Edelgard’s grip tightened on her sheets, “I once had ten siblings. Eight older and two younger. Such a large family, and yet I became the heir to the throne… do you know why?”

Byriel shook his head.

“Every last one of them was crippled by disease, or lost their mind, or died…” There was a pit in her stomach as she said it, “I was the only one left who could inherit the throne.

“That’s awful,” He looked somber, “How could such a thing happen?”

“Things kept getting worse,” Edelgard stared at the floor, unable to bring herself to speak of Thales or the other monsters, “The darkness kept getting darker. In the end, I was the only one who survived. The nightmares are a reminder to never forget. To _ never _ allow such terrible things to happen again.”

“Never again…?” He asked.

“Even now, I’m the only one who can carry the weight of the Adrestian Empire. The future of the Empire, of_ everything _, depends on me…” She huffed an empty laugh, “Really, I’m just like Lonato. I, too, will be the sort of ruler who’s willing to risk the lives of my citizens in service of a higher cause. It’s not possible to change the world without sacrifice. Dying for the greater good is not a death in vain.”

Perhaps she was the only one who could. She carried the flames, and she survived when everyone else hadn’t. Though there was no escape from the fury of war now, it would be a war that would put an end to the cycle of suffering by the powers that mockingly walked amongst the rest of humanity with masks of false kindness.

Byriel frowned, “Seems like a lot to carry alone, Edelgard.”

“Huh?” She stared at the professor.

“I mean, I’m no emperor so I wouldn’t know. But all that seems exhausting… ” he narrowed his gaze a bit, “You don’t have to carry whatever it is by yourself, you know. You can lean on others.”

Her throat felt constricted, “I can’t afford to take that risk.”

“You can’t, or are you afraid to?”

She felt her stomach churn at the words. They were blunt, but they were honest.

“I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I certainly don’t want to see you lose to whatever it is,” Byriel stated, “So as your assistant professor, I’m asking you to come to me at least if you have any more of these nightmares.”

There was a silence in the room. While she doubted this would cease the terrors that followed her at night, Edelgard did feel a weight seemingly lifted from her shoulders, “I shared more than I intended to. I suppose there’s something in the air tonight.”

Byriel shrugged, “Maybe. But I’m glad you told me this.”

She smiled a bit, “Funny, but I am also glad that you listened. I’ve never told anyone about my past before. But regardless, promise me that you will not tell another soul what I’ve told you. Pretend that this conversation never happened, professor.”

“Only if you keep up your end and come to me if these nightmares come back.”

She nodded, “I swear.”

Byriel stood up and stretched out his arms, “Alright, then I won’t say a word.”

“Thank you, my teacher,” Edelgard watched him leave, “Sleep well yourself…”

He nodded, gave the briefest hint of a smile, and then shut the door behind him.

For a moment, Edelgard let Byriel’s words sink in as she locked the door behind the professor and crawled back under the blankets.

Byriel Eisner. A mercenary and the son of Jeralt the Bladebreaker. Smart and seemingly trustworthy, but how much so? He chose the Golden Deer, he chose Claude over the Black Eagles, but he refused to leave them behind. What sort of person is he truly? More so, what was going on in that head of his? Is he planning something? How much can he be trusted with?

She dug her fingers into her palms, tight enough to leave several little crescent-moon shaped marks behind. Byriel wasn’t her professor, but he seemed friendly enough. Could she entrust him with the secrets she knew?

Images of her dear siblings, the ones who didn’t survive lined in a row of coffins. Her father, a puppet to be used by the nobles he once trusted. Otti, locked in chains like a beast that bit and screamed at whoever passed by him, so far broken that he didn’t even remember Edelgard’s name most days. Stomach-churning truths hidden by Rhea and her cult of worshippers.

If the church truly believed in helping the helpless, then why did the archbishop take no action? Why the lies and false smiles? 

Byriel… strangely the most genuine and honest person she had met despite appearing so stoic. Perhaps she would keep a closer eye on him, but take down a few shields in the process if the terrain was safe enough.

Though she didn’t think that the nightmares would go away after one conversation, she no less hoped that when she closed her eyes again, she’d be met with happier visions.


	25. Chapter 24: Bitter Truths and Sweet Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Vanitas: Hey guys! There won't be a chapter next week since it's expected to be super long! I hope what we have planned is worth the wait ;^)

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-Four ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Bitter Truths and Sweet Lies ⋅ ✦

* * *

Anacharsis

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_ Admittedly, Anacharsis wasn’t expecting to be so easily welcomed into Abyss. _ He already messed up, panicked and gave out his real name. Worse, he gave it to the most feared and respected person in Abyss. He was trained to be a doctor and definitely not a spy, darn it. If Yuri decided to look more into Anacharsis’s hastily made-up story, likely he’d be burned alive by the archbishop come dawn.

But if the lord did suspect him, he didn’t show it. He even helped Anacharsis find and set up a spot on the main street for his practice. Yuri had figured out that he was a doctor in training quickly, and because doctors didn’t often come down to Abyss it seemed like he was greatly needed. In just a few days, Anacharsis spoke to all sorts of people with all varieties of needs; ill merchants in need of something to chase away disease for a long journey, injured mercenaries with bleeding infections that needed to be cleaned, even just elderly residents with mild aches to attend to and children with mild coughs.

Though he knew it was only supposed to be temporary, a lie even, this place felt like home in a way.

Anacharsis sat at his workbench, his eyes fixed on a vial of clear medicine boiling over a candle flame. His hand hovered over it, a glass dropper in his fingers carefully adding a few bits of saffron extract he had brought with him. When the drops were added, the elixir turned a bright crimson. Now came the worst part; after mixing the medicine with a metal stick, waiting for it to cool down, and then bracing himself, he took a small sip of the medicine.

Immediately, he gagged at the horrid taste. His tongue suddenly felt as if it were on fire, and he cried out in pain at the sensation, flailing backward until the stool tipped over and threw Anacharsis to the ground. Luckily he was able to shield his head from the blow, but it did very little to help his burning tongue. The candles that he had used for light suddenly flared up and went out, and several empty glass vials began to form large cracks in them. Though thankfully, nothing broke this time. 

“What happened?”

The foolish doctor glanced up and to the street from his booth, seeing Yuri standing on the other side with an expression of confusion and concern.

“T-Too spicy-!” Anacharsis whimpered, swallowing a bit to get rid of the taste only for it to reignite and cause him to wince.

Yuri narrowed his eyes, “What’s spicy?”

“Th-The medicine…” The doctor swiped at his watering eyes with the back of his sleeve, “Too much saffron.”

He made a face, “The spice? Why put that in medicine?”

Anacharsis rubbed at his mouth with his sleeve, “Saffron has a lot of medical potentials.”

“You don’t say!” Yuri chuckled a bit, “Such as…?”

“I-It can boost a person’s immune system,” He explained through watering eyes, “A-And maybe melancholia, but I would need to do more work on it… ”

The Agarthan doubted that Yuri would recognize the term, but he didn’t seem to linger too much on it as he made his way around the booth and into the make-shift workshop Anacharsis had made. It was already a mess; with scattered pages and journals piled up on one end, vials and equipment on the other, as well as a few empty cups drained of coffee stacked up.

“You seem pretty sharp, jumpy-bird,” He looked over one of Anacharsis’s notes, “I’d think someone as intelligent as you would be running a successful clinic somewhere, not just patching up a few roughed-up mercenaries.”

“M-Me?!” He felt his face burn, likely as a result of the lingering saffron he thought, “Oh no, I’m not- I mean, I’m just in training. I-I’m not a professional.”

Yuri smirked a little, “Who’s to judge what’s professional or not? I certainly think the work you do is incredible. Most of the people down here never even had enough coins to get medicine from an apothecary. The things you do mean more to them than you could imagine.”

Anacharsis felt his throat tighten, “Th-Thank you, Yuri… but I’m no professional. My parents were the professionals, not me. I still have a long way to go before I can even hope to dream of something like that.”

It was a dream he did have, to follow in the footsteps of the people who raised him and become a brilliant doctor like they were. But given who he was and what he was and the people he served, he didn’t think he was even allowed to dream of such things now.

Anacharsis didn’t even truly know why he was telling Yuri this now. He didn’t know if it was just the presence of the underground lord and the potential danger he was, but every time he spoke to Anacharsis with such nice words, he thought that his heart would give out. The lord was a master of charisma, the type of person you wanted to spill all your secrets to. Then again, maybe that was the point if the rumors he had heard about Yuri were to be believed.

Finally, the spicy taste seemed to dissipate. However, the doctor’s mouth and cheeks still had a slight crimson tint to it. He picked himself up off the ground and dusted himself off.

“Feeling better, jumpy-bird?” Yuri asked.

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” Anacharsis frowned, making a short note on his papers about measurements, “I should probably get back to work, sorry for disturbing you.”

“It’s pitch black outside,” The underground lord frowned, “You’ve been up for days. Maybe you should take a break.”

At that moment, a yawn escaped the Agarthan’s mouth as if to prove Yuri’s point. Anacharsis could feel a burn-out not too far behind after staying up for so long without sleep, but he could practically hear his instructors scolding him for not working hard enough and not pulling his weight. _ You sleep when we say you can sleep, Anacharsis. Think of all the subjects you’re letting down by wasting your time like this. Unless you can’t handle the pressure? _

Anacharsis rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm, “I’m alright, I just need to take a walk and I’ll be back to work.”

“I heard somewhere that sleep is the best medicine.”

“W-Well, sometimes…” The Agarthan hung his head a bit, remembering that phrase from his parents, “But there’s so much I haven’t done yet.”

“You’ll be able to finish it all after getting some rest.”

Anacharsis gave up, feeling too exhausted to try and conjure up anything to counter the lord’s points. With the last bits of his energy, he put everything back in their rightful place, cleaning his workspace while Yuri leaned against the wall and watched him.

“Seems like you’re adjusting to Abyss pretty well, jumpy-bird.”

He pressed his mouth into a thin line at the nickname, “Maybe? It’s not as scary as I thought it’d be down here.”

“Oh? What were you expecting?”

The Agarthan’s hands hovered over his journals, “I… I suppose I imagined that it’d be darker. Darker and colder, like a hellish prison and filled with monsters.”

Yuri gave a sly smile, “Is that so?”

“I-I mean-” The Agarthan stammered, “I guess I just don’t know too many underground cities.”

The lord laughed, “I suppose that’s fair. And frankly, most people think something along those lines when they hear the name Abyss.”

“Did you?” Anacharsis glanced over at the underground lord, holding one of his journals close, “Think that, I mean?”

The lord gave a slight smirk, but even that looked charming, “Perhaps at first, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned is to adapt quickly.”

The Agarthan frowned, placing his journal down carefully, “I wish I was someone who could adapt as quickly as you could…”

“Well, you’ve adapted better than most people would in your situation, jumpy-bird,” Yuri watched him carefully, “You said that people are after you, right?”

Anacharsis felt his stomach churn, remembering the lie he had told the lord about why he had come to Abyss in the first place. He felt guilty then, hating that he had to lie to the lord about why he had come here. But if he had told the truth, then Anacharsis was sure that he’d already been dead.

“Y-Yes…” Anacharsis stared at the workbench, pulling together something that made sense, “My parents were medics that served in the Imperial Army during the Dagda and Brigid War. They didn’t agree with a lot of decisions Count Bergliez made and tried their best to help people who needed it regardless of the side they were on. Even helping the people who were on Dagda and Brigid’s side caught in the fighting. You can imagine that doing that would make a lot of enemies, and some of those enemies decided to put my name in their sights when the war ended. I couldn’t go to the Empire for help given what happened, so a friend of mine from school told me about a place in Garreg Mach Monastery hidden from the world, and told me to hide there until things were safer.”

He waited, hoping that the answer would be satisfactory for the lord. His heart pounded in his chest, frantic and terrified that Yuri would catch the lies. Though most of what he had said weren’t technically lies, there were parts that certainly were.

Yuri looked grim, “I see… your parents were quite brave to risk their lives to help people like that. It’s a shame that you had to get caught up in that conflict, Anacharsis.”

The Agarthan felt his heart sink, “I-It was unavoidable.”

“Well, as I said before, you’re always welcome here,” Yuri gave him a smile, “And anyone foolish enough to try and come down here looking for you will regret ever stepping foot in Abyss.”

Anacharsis tried to smile, but it almost physically hurt to do so knowing that he was lying to someone who had let him settle in Abyss without hesitating.

“Anyway, I hate to cut this conversation short, but I have something I need to attend to.” Yuri straightened, preparing to take leave.

“Is it something serious?” Anacharsis asked.

The lord frowned a bit, “Nothing serious, per se. It’s just some business I need to get done. You don’t need to worry about that. Try and get some sleep, jumpy-bird.”

“W-Wait,” the Agarthan walked back to his workbench and picked up a small elixir from the mess, holding it out to Yuri with shaking fingers, “A-At least take this if you’re doing something dangerous. I tested it on myself yesterday so it’s safe, use it if you get hurt.”

Yuri didn’t move, and for a moment Anacharsis worried that the lord was going to laugh at him for being so overly worried about this. But then the underground lord smiled at him, reaching out and taking the elixir from his hands.

“I appreciate the concern. I’ll keep this close.”

Anacharsis swore that his heart was about to explode in his chest.

With that, Yuri gave him one more sly smile and then took his leave back down the streets. Now that he was gone, the Agarthan wondered what that sort of business would entail. It was probably nothing good given the rumors he heard about Yuri and his scary reputation, but maybe it was something much simpler like food shipments or what to do about those mysterious professors people kept whispering about in Abyss. He hoped it wasn’t about those professors though, they sounded absolutely terrifying, cold-blooded killers from what Anacharsis had heard.

Taking the underground lord’s advice on getting sleep, the Agarthan quickly put everything away and sat on the edge of the makeshift bed of old blankets and a worn mattress he had that, admittedly, wasn’t very comfortable. Though it was much more welcome than the jittery doctor sleeping at his desk like he had done so many times before in the past.

Before he could really sleep though, he quickly pulled out the bag he had brought his things in, digging through it until he found a long dagger sheathed in leather. It looked rather cruel with the curve of the blade and the gleam of the metal in some light, but it was a gift from one of the few people in Shambhala that he could call his friend. He quickly put that under his pillow and hid under the blankets, but despite the security, his heart pounded heavily in his chest.

He kept expecting someone to sneak up on him with a weapon in their hands, preparing to snuff out his life despite Anacharsis being far away from the prison called Shambhala. Though again, out here it wasn’t just his fellow Agarthans who wanted to kill him to get a leg up in their small society. He was beneath the archbishop, and if she found him she would kill him. If anyone in that monastery found him, he’d be executed without hesitation, or at least that what Thales had warned Anacharsis when they had met. He couldn’t trust anyone from the surface, everyone would hate him if they knew what he was.

Which was worse, he thought as he closed his eyes; to spend an eternity in the dark and cold walls of Shambhala under the protection and rule of Thales and his armies, or to spend that same eternity running away from both Agarthans and humans who would kill him for not belonging to either side, if he even had an eternity to try? 

He liked to think that somewhere, he did belong. He did once before, but now there was no one. Now, he would have to search again on his own.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Dorothea

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♫ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Lord Lonato’s rebellion had left a sour taste for Dorothea. _ When she had come to this academy, she never thought that she’d be told to do something so barbaric. It made her feel sick thinking about it.

Was this also part of the church’s teachings? Or was this simply a reminder of what happened when someone decided to challenge the archbishop’s authority?

She trailed the tips of her nails over the polished wood of her desk, staring up at Hanneman as he wrapped up his lecture on the history of Crests or something. Not that it mattered to her; she had no interest in learning about something she didn’t have.

“Now, if anyone else has any questions feel free to stop by my office when you have the time! This month’s mission, as you’ve already been disclosed, is a rather dangerous one and it is my duty to ensure that you are all properly prepared for it!” Hanneman concluded, smiling at the students as he closed his books and left the room. The monastery’s bells rang out, signaling for the afternoon break and the transition to the Eisner twin’s afternoon teaching. Though truthfully, anything was better than simply dwelling on what had happened.

Besides, now there was an assassination attempt to be focused on.

“More violence,” Linhardt let an audible yawn from where he sat, “Don’t these people ever get tired?”

“They’re criminals, Lin!” Caspar exclaimed loudly, calling across the room, “And it’s our job to take them down!”

The statement earned a glare from Hubert, who was directly in the crossfire of Caspar’s incredibly loud shouting and Linhardt’s apathetic and sleepy ears.

“It still doesn’t make the task any less gruesome…” Dorothea muttered.

Linhardt frowned, “Well surely the knights would be able to handle it. There are many more important things to be concerned about.”

“Such as…?” Hubert glowered at him.

“The suspicious people that come into the monastery at night and take food and whatever they need back into the darkness with them.”

Everyone in the room fell silent, staring at Linhardt as if he had suddenly started speaking in a different language.

“Don’t tell me you _ haven’t _ noticed?” Linhardt stated as if it were a common fact.

Hubert frowned, looking serious, “And you’ve only brought this up now?”

“I thought everyone knew about it already.”

“We clearly didn’t, Lin!” Caspar cried.

The green-haired student sighed, “Oh dear… how troublesome.”

Dorothea narrowed her gaze, “Suspicious people… here at the monastery? How would they even get in?”

“I’m still trying to figure it out…” Linhardt gave a yawn.

Hubert stood up, slamming his hands on the desk, “Where did you see them!?”

Unfortunately for Hubert, Linhardt had completely passed out at that moment.

Caspar got up from his seat as well, “Oh, come on, Lin! You gotta tell us where you found the bad guys!”

Dorothea giggled a bit, finding it somewhat amusing watching the two students trying to wake up Linhardt. They’d likely have an easier time taking down Dedue than waking up their fellow Black Eagle student.

Edelgard, who had been watching the whole mess, sighed, “Well if he can’t tell us then we should investigate it ourselves.”

“Agreed,” Hubert stated, giving another glare to Linhardt’s sleeping form.

Bernadetta suddenly squeaked, “I-I saw someone suspicious in the dining hall at night once…! I thought it was a ghost but maybe it was a person…? He looked familiar too…”

All eyes in the room fell upon Bernadetta, and the response was immediate. She let out a cry and ducked under the table.

“What appearance did he have?” Petra asked, looking under the desk at Bernadetta.

“I-It was dark!” She cried, “It had to be a ghost!”

“There are no such things as ghosts.” Hubert crossed his arms.

“Ghosts or not,” Edelgard spoke up, “If there are any suspicious individuals lurking around Garreg Mach, we should investigate it.”

“I agree!” Ferdinand declared, smiling, “As a noble, I will not let this issue stand!”

Dorothea sighed a bit, “Well, while you go about doing that, Ferdie, I’m off to get something from the dining hall.”

Edelgard nodded, “Right, in the meantime I shall bring these issues forward to our professors.”

Caspar gave the sleeping Linhardt a pat on the shoulder, “Yeah, and I’ll see if I can get Lin to wake up.”

“Best you do that, or I will,” Hubert replied, his tone slightly threatening.

“Hubert.” Edelgard frowned at him.

Before any more excitement could happen, Dorothea rose up from her seat and walked out the door. Not to say all of this wasn’t interesting, but it certainly was exhausting.

Speaking of exhausting things, she did not get too far before she heard a familiar voice calling after her.

“Dorothea, wait one moment please!” Ferdinand ran after her.

Immediately, what spirits she had before dampened and she put on a rehearsed smile, “Yes, Ferdie?”

The marmalade-haired noble stood before her, looking chipper as ever, “I hoped to have a word with you!”

_ What could he possibly want? _ “And that would be…?”

“I wanted to express my gratitude for you coming to my aide in our last battle!”

“Express your gratitude…?” She stared at him, confused beyond all measures.

“For your quick thinking and actions when we were on the battlefield. If you had not acted quickly, I would likely not be here right now.”

Dorothea tried to think back over the rebellion in an attempt to find meaning as to what he was saying. During the battle, she _ did _recall taking down one bandit that came from the fog and towards her and Ferdinand in an attempt to murder the two. But surely a noble with the finest training like Ferdinand von Aegir would’ve been able to handle it if he were alone, right?

“I think you’re overexaggerating a little, Ferdie.” She shook her head.

“I think not!” Ferdinand smiled wide, “I owe you my thanks, and I wished to express my gratitude to you properly with a cup of tea.”

Dorothea already felt annoyed with him and gave him a cold grin, “Oh, I imagine that a big-shot noble like yourself wouldn’t be caught dead sipping tea with one of us common folk.”

The marmalade-haired noble suddenly looked saddened, “What? No, that’s not-!”

“I think I’ll pass, Ferdie.” She started to walk past him.

“Wait, Dorothea!” He stepped in front of her path quickly.

She frowned, pausing in her steps and waiting to hear his excuse.

He composed himself, but still looked somewhat hurt, “I understand that you are not fond of nobles, but this invitation has nothing to do with commonfolk or nobility. I simply wanted to thank you as my fellow student.”

Dorothea blinked, feeling confused, “Is that so?”

“Of course.” He nodded, seemingly genuine in his response, “If you hadn’t spotted that enemy when you did, I never would’ve been able to fight back in time! I truly am grateful for what you did.”

Admittedly, she was somewhat flattered. He seemed sincere in his gratitude, not condescending as a noble might’ve been. But despite that, she couldn’t seem to risk bringing down that wall completely. Not even for him. The glare from that boy at the fountain still clung with her like a stubborn cold. But regardless of past grudges, she was stuck working with him for the year to come.

Ferdinand shuffled his feet a bit, “If you are not interested, then I can take my leave. I simply wanted to offer my thanks to you.”

She sighed, already regretting what she was about to say, “Alright, but only this once, Ferdie. I have other things to do, you know.”

The noble’s face immediately lit up and the biggest smile spread across his face, “You accept?”

“Just this once,” She reiterated, “This doesn’t excuse you from being a bee.”

“Believe me, I will solve this riddle of yours,” He grinned, “But for now, let’s not waste any time!”

Ferdinand immediately started walking in the direction of the dining hall, waiting every now and then for Dorothea to catch up to him. As she followed after him, she had to admit that there was something cute about how excited he was about the whole thing. He acted like this was the most important thing in his life.

However, before the two could get settled in the dining hall, one of the knights spotted Ferdinand and approached them right as they were taking their seats.

“Ferdinand von Aegir?” The knight asked them.

“Yes?” He asked, standing up quickly.

“I apologize for interrupting you two, but I received a letter from Enbarr. It’s addressed to you from the Prime Minister.”


	26. Chapter 25: Apparition

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-Five ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Apparition ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byriel

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_ The first thing Byriel and his sister saw when they entered the Black Eagle classroom were Hubert and Caspar trying to shake Linhardt awake. _

“What’s going on here…?” Byriel raised an eyebrow at the two students.

“Just trying to get Linhardt up, Professor!” Caspar explained, all while shaking his friend’s shoulder.

Byriel made a face, “I appreciate you trying to make sure he’s awake for class, but I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“For his sake, let’s hope it does work.” Hubert scowled at the sleeping student.

At that moment, Linhardt let out a yawn and sat up while rubbing his eyes, “Hm? Oh, Professors, you’re here already?”

Caspar’s eyes immediately lit up in excitement, “You’re awake! Come on, Linhardt, you have to tell us about the people you saw at night!”

The twin professors looked equally intrigued and slightly confused as to what Caspar was talking about.

“Oh right,” Linhardt blinked sleepily, “Those people who disappeared into the darkness and came at night… Let me think for a bit.”

Hubert looked as though he were ready to murder the lethargic student. In fact, Byriel knew Hubert decently well and was pretty sure that was his murder face, so he thought it was to step in before he pulled out a knife or something. Thankfully, no immediate actions needed to take place as the bells chose that exact time to ring, signaling the start of class. Whatever plans Hubert had concocted in his head were foiled for the time being.

Byriel and his sister made their way to the front of the room while Caspar and Hubert retook their own seats. Slowly, one by one, each of the Black Eagle students filed back into the room.

“People that come at night… I haven’t heard about this before. Have you, By?” Byleth asked.

He did remember Claude mentioning something similar, thus the point of the stakeout he was planning. But he didn’t think that the noble would appreciate it if Byriel went and announced it to the class.

“I guess not,” He shrugged, “But regardless, I think that we should probably focus on the Prime Minister’s mission.”

Byleth frowned a bit, “Do we even have the time to focus on something like this when we already have the archbishop to worry about?”

“We have a month,” He pointed out, “So I don’t think it would be too much of a big deal to head to Enbarr with a few of our students to take care of this. I mean, I’d rather not let Ferdinand go alone.”

His twin scowled a bit at the idea of the noble going on his own, “I don’t want him to go off alone either…”

As everyone got settled, a silent agreement seemed to rest over the twin professors. Byleth gave her brother a nod, and he turned to address the Black Eagle class.

“Alright, in regards to these mysterious people showing up at night, we’ll bring this up to the rest of the staff. But report any more sightings to us if you have them.”

Linhardt shrugged, “I mean it doesn’t happen a lot…”

“Regardless, let us know.” Byleth emphasized the point.

Byriel walked over to the worn chalkboard and began scratching a message on the surface, cringing at the sounds it made.

“Anyway, the two of us will be accompanying you to Enbarr, Ferdinand.”

He looked shocked, “Wait, what-?”

The professor put the chalk down, revealing a roughly-drawn empty list, “If anyone else is interested in going this weekend, please write your names down here.”

“A-As I’ve said, it’s unnecessary!” Ferdinand protested.

Byriel frowned, “Ferdinand, there’s nothing wrong with having your fellow classmates help you with this. Seems like most of the class is willing to do so.”

“Yeah!” Caspar cried, “If it’s a fight this assassin is looking for, then they’re gonna get it from both Lin and I!”

“Don’t go dragging me into this without my permission…” Linhardt frowned, “Though I suppose I have to go if you’re going in case you get hurt.”

“I would be liking to, I mean…” Petra started over, but looked no less determined, “I would like to help you.”

Edelgard gave a smile that bordered on devilish, “I am interested in this as well. I feel it is a responsibility I have as the future emperor.”

She looked over to her valet, who sighed and said, “If you are going, Lady Edelgard, then I will go with you as well.”

“Well, I certainly have no protests about going back to Enbarr for a bit.” Dorothea smiled a bit at the noble.

The only one who hadn’t spoken was Bernadetta, who let out a shriek as everyone stared at her, waiting for an answer.

“D-Don’t just look at me like that!” She cried.

“Will you be going?” Byleth asked.

The girl let out a cry, “Do I have to?!”

Byriel realized something, “What if the mysterious people come back? You’ll be alone then. It’s safer to go with us for now.”

Bernadetta looked horrified, then she let out another shriek, “F-Fine, I’ll go! B-But only because I don’t want to face any more ghosts!”

Ferdinand looked surprised at the amount of enthusiasm, even a bit conflicted. However, he seemed to come to a decision and smiled.

“Very well then. I accept your aide!”

Byriel nodded, even cracking a tiny smile, “Good. I’ll bring this up to Seteth and we’ll leave at the end of the week.”

“Well, we have to get the approval before anything else…” Byleth reminded her brother.

He made a face. “I’m sure that he has no other reason to say no.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ The afternoon went as it normally did, though Byleth couldn’t help but think about the assassination threat. _ She could only come to the conclusion that it was because Ferdinand was the Prime Minister’s son, thus he had no reason to decline. It was a rotten thing to do, she thought; enlisting his own son to encounter a deadly assassin as some kind of twisted version of a favor. Worse was that she knew Ferdinand wouldn’t decline or give up. She knew this from having to save the noble from fighting two demonic beasts on his own a month ago. He was stubbornly determined to fulfill his ‘noble obligation,’ even if it risked his life.

As the afternoon lecture grew to an end and the last of the one-on-one sessions concluded, Byriel and Byleth departed the room to return to their original classes. Though with the little time they had before the evening lecture, the two decided it would be best to try and find Seteth and inform him of what was going to come on the weekend.

Her brother had a slight scowl on his face, “Duke Aegir…”

“What about him?” Byleth asked.

“I haven’t met him yet, but I already dislike him. What sort of person asks their son to take out an assassin?”

She frowned a little, “A coward?”

“Obviously he’s a coward, but it must take a special kind of coward to ask their child to defend them,” Fire seemed to flick in Byriel’s eyes, “Wouldn’t a prime minister have guards? Spies? Maybe his own assassins? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

Byleth lowered her gaze to the ground briefly, “Because Ferdinand won’t say no to it. At least, that’s what I think.”

“I think that’s part of it, but I also suspect something else.”

“And that is?”

Her brother narrowed his eyes, clearly deep in thought, “I imagine asking your son to help defend you from an assassin would help avert information being made public after the attempt. He’s probably avoiding political scandal. After all, if an assassin is after you, you might not look like such a good prime minister.”

She thought over the idea and it made the most sense to her. She looked back at her brother, “When did you get so smart?”

He shrugged, “It makes sense. I can’t imagine why else Duke Aegir would risk the life of probably his only heir. Ferdinand did mention that he is the legitimate heir, I imagine if he has siblings they might not have crests or haven’t been declared as legitimate.”

Byleth frowned, the thought making her head spin a bit, “It sounds so confusing…”

“Hey, Teach!” A voice called from behind, causing the twins to stop in their steps for a moment.

Claude was walking behind them, smiling that same grin on his face that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. He stopped in front of the two, but he kept his gaze on Byriel.

“I was hoping to find you, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Byleth gave a questioning look to her brother; he glanced at Claude and then back to his sister.

“We can talk about this after class. Have you seen Seteth, by the way?”

“Him? I think he’s probably in his office, why?”

Byriel shrugged, “We just needed to talk to him about something.”

“Aw, not gonna tell me, Teach?” Claude raised an eyebrow, teasing a bit.

“It’s complicated,” her brother explained, clearly trying to keep the issue private.

The golden noble looked a bit saddened at the reaction, and Byleth had a feeling that Byriel wished to talk to him, but wanted to keep Ferdinand’s business a secret.

An idea did come into Byleth’s head, and before she could stop otherwise she asked, “Claude, we have a mission coming up. We could use someone with your schemes.”

Byriel shot his gaze to his sister, eyes wide and clearly alarmed at the implication.

“Oh yeah?” Claude was immediately interested, “What sort of mission?”

Byleth raised a finger, pausing the thought, “We can’t tell you until it’s run by Seteth. But if it is, you have to stay quiet about it.”

“By…?!” Byriel’s face flushed and he quickly lowered his voice, “What are you doing..!?”

She shrugged, “There shouldn’t be any harm in it. Claude’s very intelligent, so I think we’ll be more successful if he comes along.”

Claude laughed. “I’m flattered!”

Byriel’s pale cheeks were flushed with a bright rose color, though he kept his gaze away from view so that the noble wouldn’t notice.

“Color me interested,” Claude had that same face he had whenever he was scheming, “I’ll be more than happy to give you a hand in any schemes. You know where to find me, Teach.”

Then he gave Byriel a sly wink and then walked back the way he came. The moment he was gone, her brother turned to her.

“Why did you do that?!”

“Did you not want me to?”

“No-! I mean-!” He stammered, trying to find his words.

Byleth scowled, “You like Claude. And it’s only a mission, so it doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. But you can at least talk to him without having dad or Leonie glaring at him the whole time. Not like you were going to ask before me… ”

Byriel raised a finger in objection, but then stopped. He then frowned, “Dammit you’re right.”

She had no idea if he was saying she was right about his reluctance about his feelings towards Claude or the mention of Jeralt and Leonie. Regardless, she gave him a slight grin.

“You’re welcome.”

Byriel lightly smacked his arm, but a smile spread across his face.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Anacharsis

╚═════════ ∘◦ 👁 ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ If things were different, maybe Anacharsis would live in Abyss forever. _

He enjoyed going around to the various people in the underground city, and a lot of the patients he treated seemed to appreciate the work he did for them no matter how small.

“I appreciate what you’ve done for me, Anacharsis!” One mercenary said with a grin as he patched up one of the man’s grizzly wounds received from a fight.

“You’re too kind, thank you!” An old storekeeper said after taking one of Anacharsis’s elixirs made for relieving mild aches.

“Thank you, mister!” One child with a cold said with a smile.

It was small, but it made him feel happy and helped him think that he could belong somewhere again.

By the afternoon, the Agarthan felt tired and went back to his small booth to work on medicine and other potions. The booth had remained closed for the day, not quite ready for him to start an actual shop since he liked going around Abyss freely, but he thought it would be easier for others to get the medicines they needed if they had a place to go to.

As Anacharsis walked into his workshop, he froze seeing that there was someone standing in the middle of his booth, looking over his vials with their back to the doctor. He had no lock for the door, but he figured that it being closed up would be a strong indication that he was gone.

“O-Oh, can I help y...?” Anacharsis began to ask, only for his voice to fall apart as he suddenly realized with a start that he knew who this was just by the uniform he wore.

The figure turned around, familiar ice-colored eyes gleaming as a large smile tinged with madness grew on his face. “Ha, I had a feeling that this was your booth! Though it took me a little to find it, it seems that She has led me on the right path once again!”

A pit formed in Anacharsis’s stomach, “Wh-Why are you here, Peri?! How did you even find this place?!”

Periander gestured to the empty air next to him, “The Goddess, of course. She told me to come here.”

Anacharsis wanted to scream at his fellow Agarthan, scream until he came back to his senses and did the smart thing and went away. But sadly, Periander was stubborn like this. He had been this way ever since Anacharsis had met him five years ago, and hadn’t changed when they graduated a few months ago.

The mad Agarthan walked across the workshop, running a gloved hand through his raven-colored hair. In the low light from the candles, his hair gleamed slightly green and blue tint as if it were actually made up of the bird’s feathers.

“Well, you’ve certainly made yourself at home here,” He commented, staring at the mess of Anacharsis’s workbench, “You have Her watching over you here… it appears my prayers for your safety have come true. The Goddess rewards her most devout followers, after all. I’m glad she has done this favor for me.”

Anacharsis quickly checked over his shoulder, making sure no one was listening to the two of them and shut the door.

“It’s not home, Peri,” Anacharsis turned back to the man, “And while I’m glad to see you, don’t you know how risky it is? If anyone caught you, you could be killed.”

He laughed suddenly, so loud that Anacharsis feared that someone would hear him, “It was my wish to leave Shambhala once a month, so Thales already gave me his tentative blessings to cross the bridge. Besides, I don’t get caught, Charsis. I’m much too fast for anyone to catch!”

Anacharsis could think of a few people who were, indeed, faster than Periander. Even though his fellow Agarthan was one of the fastest and strongest to graduate, one of the top five to survive in fact, he was far from invincible no matter how much he claimed that the goddess protected him. Then again, maybe him surviving at all was proof that someone or something was watching over him. 

The Agarthans believed in facts over religion, in fact, any mention of the Church of Seiros could get a person executed, but Periander was a rare exception in Shambhala. He kept his worship quiet typically, but his faith was strong. Anacharsis believed in the teachings of Seiros too, though not as much as Periander did. Regardless, the doctor wasn’t going to judge or denounce his beliefs.

It wasn’t just a rude thing to do, but it was often deadly.

“Why are you here?” Anacharsis repeated his question.

Periander blinked, turning his focus back to the much shorter Agarthan, “Ah, right. I require elixirs from you. They’re the finest in the world, after all.”

“You came all this way for my elixirs?”

“I am going to Enbarr.”

Anacharsis blinked, “Enbarr? Why so far away?”

Periander grinned, “I am going to strike down the Prime Minister.”

Silence fell over the two. Then Anacharsis panicked.

“Are you mad?! Why on earth would you do that?!” He cried.

Periander blinked his cold eyes, still staring blankly at the wall as if waiting for an answer from someone. He then snapped his attention back to Anacharsis, popping his neck in the process, it making a sudden sound.

“She has sent me visions to do so! She spoke to me a few nights ago and when I woke up, I went to see why She had called upon me. Hrym was mentioned and thus I went there. I then quickly realized the poor condition it was in, especially Her altars and churches. The people there are on the brink of starvation due to the heavy taxes. I must free them and the rest of Enbarr from his tyranny. I have already sent the dastard my warning, so now is the time for action.”

Anacharsis walked across the room, grabbed Periander by the arms as much as he could, and attempted to shake some sense back into him, “Peri! You can’t just go killing the Prime Minister! There are repercussions to doing stuff like this!”

Periander blinked, looking confused at his fellow Agarthan’s worry, “Charsis, She has willed me. I must answer Her call for the sake of the people suffering.”

The Agarthan groaned. It felt like talking to a rock when Periander was in a mood like this. He was probably normal once, he had grown up in a safe place like Anacharsis did. But once Thales found him and dragged him to the brutal survival game, he probably lost himself in the struggle to live. Most of the Agarthans usually did; giving up who they once were to dedicate their lives to becoming monsters for the High Priest Thales. Monsters like Valence or Syn, who Anacharsis feared would find them out here. There would be nothing to prevent either of those two from hunting them down like rabbits.

Admittedly, Periander was different from them. Anacharsis didn’t know exactly what happened to him prior to meeting him, but his belief in the goddess had kept him alive and made him determined to win. His mind was no doubt corrupted in some ways, but he had survived better than most would have. It was hard to come by friends in Shambhala, but Periander was one of the few that Anacharsis wanted to consider as someone he could trust.

“If Thales finds out you killed one of his allies, you’ll be fed to Scylla,” Anacharsis explained carefully, “Or you’ll be experimented on, or you’ll be killed by the guards. It’s the Prime Minister of the Adrestian Empire, he’s not going to be just out in the open. By now he probably has more shields put up.”

Periander’s expression softened a little, and for a moment Anacharsis hoped it was a sign that he had come back to his senses. But then it grew determined.

“I’ve already made up my mind. The Empire is my home, and it’s also your home. Who am I if I can’t do this for it?”

Anacharsis felt his heart plumet, afraid of that response. He realized very quickly that he could protest and beg all he wanted, but the Agarthan who had been by his side all these years wouldn’t stop. Periander was mad, but all of his decisions were calculated.

He sighed, cracking under the pressure. “At least let me find my stronger elixirs.”

Anacharsis let go of the much taller Agarthan and walked back to his workbench, shifting through the mess to find what he needed. All while Periander watched over his shoulder with an intense focus.

“You can run, you know,” Periander stated. “Take what gold you can gather, find a ship to Almyra or Dagda and help people there as a doctor. Or you can stay here and continue to work? It’s what you wanted, right?”

The doctor hung his head, “I can’t run and I certainly can’t stay. I’m just supposed to find out information about the archbishop here and report back to Thales at the end of the month.”

Periander tilted his head to the side, “I have never heard of a bird wanting to return to its cage.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Anacharsis shook his head, terrified at the very thought of having to return to that prison called Shambhala, “If I could, I’d just stay here forever.”

“Then why can’t you?” The taller Agarthan questioned more, “Doesn’t seem like you’ve done much spy work anyway, so why not just stay here?”

“I can’t stay because I’m not human…” Anacharsis felt his hands shaking as he lifted one of his vials, “I don’t want to go back to Shambhala, but there’s nowhere else I can go, Peri.”

To spend eternity in a cage or to spend that same time running away from everyone. Those were the only choices Anacharsis had. It’s what every person in Shambhala had to decide.

The mad Agarthan fidgeted a bit, then he scowled, “There’s a reason we survived through years of bone-breaking training and cut-throat traitors, Charsis; to force change.”

Anacharsis tightened his grip on the vial, doubting the words, “Things can’t just change, Peri. No matter how much everyone says they can.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do because we’re us. Even if we change Shambhala without getting killed, we can’t change how the world sees us.”

_ If they really knew what you were, what your ancestors did, they’d hate you. They’d burn you alive and dance on your ashes. So long as the world is how it is now, there will be no place for you if you leave. _

Periander stared at the wall again, “We are all the same in Her eyes. She judges us for our actions, not what we are born as. Thales is a villain who throws away children who he deems as useless. You are a doctor who helps people despite them being humans or Agarthans. Even if we were humans, that does not change what Her judgment will be.”

The candles on the table began to flicker, but only for a moment before Anacharsis let out the breath he realized he was holding. 

The mad Agarthan tilted his head, his pale eyes meeting Anacharsis’s, “At least… I think that you’re a kind person. I don’t see why anyone would want to hate you.”

He thought about Yuri and how easily he had let him into Abyss. The people he called his parents, who had inspired him to be what he is now. If they knew what he was, what horrible things his ancestors before him had done, would their views change?

_ There’s nowhere for you other than with us. They’ll hate you. We’re monsters in their eyes, it’s safer with us. It’s safer to fight them and build everything from scratch. _

Anacharsis shook his head again, his vision suddenly going blurry. He gathered up his elixirs and pushed three small vials filled with clear liquid across the table in Periander’s direction, “Promise me that if the situation is too dangerous, you’ll abort the mission. Promise me that much, alright?”

Periander stared at the vials, and for a moment Anacharsis thought that he didn’t hear him. But before Anacharsis could repeat himself, he was suddenly crushed in the much stronger arms of the mad Agarthan in a hug. Anacharsis struggled to get free, but it was a fruitless effort since Periander was so much stronger than he was so he eventually gave up and squeezed him tighter. The somewhat mad Agarthan carried the faintest scent of worn leather and a sweeter smell of flowers he used for offerings to the goddess. It was familiar, and it was comforting.

“I will. Only because you asked me to,” Periander muttered. “I’ll be back before long, and we’ll have a drink and something sweet to celebrate. I promise, Charsis.”

Anacharsis’s voice died in his throat, making a sound that resembled a combination of a sob and something along the lines of ‘alright’ as tears burned his eyes and ran down his face, staining his friend’s shirt.

He feared if he tried to say anything more, he’d lose what composure he had left.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

7/6

Blue Sea Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Ferdinand

╚═════════ ∘◦ ✧ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Summer mornings in Enbarr brought back nostalgic memories for the noble. _Riding horses in the meadows and green fields, getting absolutely filthy, rushing home to take a bath, and then going out to the city to enjoy the opera and the nice weather. Some of his more cherished memories were from this place.

Enbarr has always been beautiful to Ferdinand; it was one of the oldest cities in the Empire, the buildings had remained untouched by time for hundreds of years with very few changes. It was carefully preserved like a piece of fine art, and was one that people traveled over the land and over the oceans around Fódlan to see.

It was a city that the noble assumed everyone had seen once in their lifetime, so it surprised him to see the looks of amazement on the professor’s faces as they crossed through the city gates. They looked at the layout with an innocent curiosity that Ferdinand found a bit endearing.

“Have you ever been to Enbarr before, Professors?” He asked as the group looked around the somewhat familiar city.

“No…” Byriel stared at several of the carefully sculpted buildings. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a city like this before. Jeralt usually avoided big cities, especially ones with heavy ties to the church.”

Byleth nodded, her eyes wide with awe. She showed more expression than her brother, to Ferdinand it was as if he had a mask of stone. There were few times when he actually smiled, it made Ferdinand wonder why Claude was so fascinated by the professor. Perhaps they had a lot of things in common? The leader of the Golden Deer house sometimes made rather strange comments in regard to Byriel, comments that Ferdinand usually only heard the end of and didn’t quite gather what it was about, but it was probably relating to Byriel’s teaching ability.

Speaking of the leader of the Golden Deer house, he had gone along with the group seemingly out of nowhere. It was a bit suspicious, but he was very familiar with the lord’s abilities to craft schemes that took everyone by surprise at this point. Perhaps his inclusion was another calculated move by the professors to help Ferdinand’s father. Claude stuck close to Byriel and made sure not to leave his side as if he expected someone to suddenly sneak up on them and run off with the professor.

“I am being impressed-” Petra cut herself off and corrected her words, “I mean, I am impressed. I have not seen such, how you say… grand places?”

Dorothea giggled a bit, “I think that’s the best way to describe Enbarr.”

“Now then, Professors,” Edelgard scanned the city, her expression wary. “How shall we proceed?”

The two were quiet, their expressions shifted a bit as they thought over what to do next. However, Claude von Riegan beat them both to it.

“I say that we take this time to get a good layout of where the Prime Minister is staying, get a good look at the layout and figure out how our clever killer plans on taking out their target.”

Edelgard raised an eyebrow at him. “Interesting. You seem quite familiar with how these things go.”

Claude smiled. “I do my research, princess.”

Ferdinand nodded. “Yes, it is important to consider all possible methods of attack.”

From behind him, Caspar let out a whine, “Why can’t we just beat them up when they show us their ugly mug?”

Linhardt narrowed his gaze. “You could also get beat up if you rushed in recklessly.”

Bernadetta let out a whimper, hiding behind Edelgard quickly, “M-Maybe there isn’t an assassin! Let’s just go home!”

Edelgard sighed a little, “Bernadetta…”

Byleth gave a stern look to the shy girl. “Don’t worry, Bernie. I’ll keep you safe from any assassin.”

The girl looked shocked, and then her expression shifted to one on the brink of tears, “P-Professor!!!”

Some of the people walking on the street briefly glanced over at the girl, wondering what the cause of Bernadetta’s distress could be. The group waited for the storm of emotion to calm for the student.

“Ah, I’m sorry…” Bernadetta sniffled.

“It’s alright.” Byleth gave a small grin to the girl.

Her brother looked to Ferdinand, “Where is your father hiding out?”

The noble had already read the letter enough times that he knew that his father was hiding in the smaller residence in the heart of one of Enbarr’s finer districts. It was a home he used whenever he traveled from Aegir territory to the capitol for official business, and a reclusive one at that.

“I know the way, stay close behind!” Ferdinand declared, walking in the direction before the professors could respond.

“Ferdie, wait up!” Dorothea cried from behind him.

He did slow his pace enough for them all to catch up but still made sure to keep a bit ahead of everyone as well as keeping a close eye on anyone who might be watching them. He didn’t think it was likely any assassin would risk walking around in broad daylight, but he wasn’t going to let his guard down because of it. What sort of noble would?

As the group of students treaded through the streets of Enbarr, there came a sort of shift in the atmosphere that only someone who had spent their lives here would notice; the closer they walked towards where Duke Aegir was hidden, the quieter the streets were becoming. The crowds of people became smaller and smaller to a point where there were only a few individuals walking leisurely to their destinations, or just to enjoy the warmth of the afternoon.

The sights were familiar, and Ferdinand led the group to the steps of a home that was larger and more stately than the rest of the residences that were built on this road. The estate in Aegir territory was much more extravagant, but a noble’s home must still maintain a sense of grandeur. This one was no exception with the stone outside carved into delicate patterns and coated in emerald-colored ivy and golden designs.

Byriel squinted at the house, “You’d think the prime minister would have better taste.”

Byleth also frowned, “Or that he’d be in a place that’s a little more discreet… ”

The noble turned to the group, “I ask that you all wait here for a moment. I will speak to my father briefly about what we have planned.”

Dorothea frowned, “You’re fine with going in alone?”

Ferdinand felt a weight over his shoulders, “It’ll be brief, I promise!”

Before anyone could protest, he made his way towards the doors. Though before he could even think about knocking, they were opened by a tall woman with impossibly bright blonde hair and wearing a black maid’s dress and white apron.

“Young lord Aegir!” She smiled brightly at him and bowed briefly, “Your father has been expecting your arrival! Shall I prepare tea for your guests?”

Hubert gave a questioning look to the woman, “And you would be…?”

Ferdinand looked her over, unfamiliar with this maid. He had made an effort to remember the names and faces of the people who worked for his family, but couldn’t put a name to this face in particular, “Are you new then?”

“Yes, young lord,” She replied, holding a tray close to her chest, “You may refer to me as Emma.”

The noble thought it over but dismissed the notion. It wasn’t surprising; servants to the Aegir family changed frequently, though Ferdinand tried his best to learn their names when they were around.

Ferdinand nodded to Emma, “Yes, please do so. I can find my way there on my own… Emma.”

Emma smiled and bowed, “Yes, young lord.”

The noble didn’t linger too much, walking past the maid and through the familiar walls of the residence and towards the office where his father worked. His hand hovered over the door, and he hesitated. Suddenly he wished that he had asked the professors to follow him. Or any of his fellow classmates.

But that would be unbefitting for a noble.

Ferdinand knocked on the door, and after a tense moment of silence an annoyed voice spoke up.

“Enter.”

The noble pushed the door open, and immediately felt the gaze of Duke Aegir from his cluttered desk. He had the same light marmalade colored hair and eyes as Ferdinand did, but that was where their similarities in appearance stopped. He was a robust man, one who wore the colors of the empire. He was going bald on top, but he had a mustache and stern brows that were permanently stuck at making the duke look disappointed or annoyed.

“What took you so long?” He snapped, “I could’ve been killed while you were traveling!”

Ferdinand frowned, “I thought the letter said you had until midnight…”

“Who’s to stop him if he decides to cut my throat sooner?!” The duke threw a letter towards Ferdinand with a sense of disgust, though it fluttered to the ground by his feet, “The nerve of this… this rubbish!”

The noble scooped up the letter and quickly looked it over; it was written in neat, precise handwriting. Clearly this would-be killer was educated in the calligraphy of some sort.

_ Dear Duke Aegir, the great profiteering sinner of gluttony and greed, _

_ Your success and status exist due to the tyranny you rain down upon the land. You indulge in taking from the weak with horrendous methods and sneer upon those you deem weaker than you. _

_ I have decided to pay you a visit and give retribution to those you have wronged come the final hour of the night in three days' time. _

_ Pray that the Goddess sends you to the Eternal Flames swiftly. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ The Goddess’s Messenger _

“Curse this coward…” Duke Aegir grated, “How dare he threaten me!”

“Calm down, father,” Ferdinand looked to him, “This could be a hoax of some sort. You haven’t seen anyone suspicious, have you?”

The duke sputtered, “I can’t- you-! Wh-!” He rose to his feet and slammed his hands on the table so loudly it caused Ferdinand to jump a bit.

“Nothing slips past me, Ferdinand!” Duke Aegir cried, “And I would not have summoned you if this were a hoax of some kind! Honestly, I expected you to be more eager to prove your worth as my son! What kind of noble are you supposed to be if you can’t even do this right?!”

“A-Apologies…” Ferdinand said quickly.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” the duke straightened, trying to look more authoritative, “I expect you to find whoever this is and to dispose of them swiftly and quietly. If you fail this, you will bring shame upon the Aegir name! Do you understand?!”

“I understand.” Ferdinand nodded.

“Good, now get out of my sight! I have work to do!” Duke Aegir dismissed him harshly.

The noble didn’t linger and turned to the door to leave. As he opened the door, Emma walked past him carrying a tray of tea and setting it on his father’s desk.

The noble quickly descended the stairs and escaped outside before anyone could try to stop him, taking a deep breath once the morning air hit him when he forced the doors open. But instead of finding his professors, he kept walking. He wasn’t sure why, but the horrible feeling he always got after talking to his father lingered on his shoulders, on his heart. He rushed to Enbarr, letting his legs take him anywhere but there.

He and his father did not get along, but he always felt so powerless around him. It wasn’t that they got into petty arguments, it was usually Duke Aegir exploding at the slightest implication. His father had been more in check when Ferdinand’s mother was around, but she was long gone. He wasn’t sure where she had gone, most likely back to her own house to avoid the Prime Minister.

Before Ferdinand knew it, he was at the fountain downtown. It wasn’t too terribly far from his home and a pleasant memory was connected to this place. The noble gasped in relief and leaned against the side of it, looking into the clear water below it. He looked ruffled, he looked like a scared boy. Ferdinand quickly forced himself to gain composure, he couldn’t be seen by his classmates like this. He was a noble after all, one had to keep up appearances and be strong.

Even though he didn’t feel strong in the moment, he knew he was.

“Poor thing, what causes you to look so distraught?”

The sound of a woman’s voice made Ferdinand stiffen up and look behind his shoulder, where her voice came from. And then he paled.

The woman was stunningly beautiful, with rose dusted skin and sea-green eyes that were framed by long eyelashes. Her long brown hair was made of bouncing curls, highlights of copper that gleamed in the morning light. Water droplets stuck to her curls, almost too perfectly. On her lips she wore a light pink shade, but for some reason, Ferdinand couldn’t focus on her entire face. He noticed different parts of it, but as a whole, it felt blurry to focus on it. Every part of her was perfect, almost too perfect.

She wore a high necked blouse, the sleeves were puffed out in a paned style, the panels being a seafoam green color. The blouse itself was in a military-style, its fabric glimmering in pale blues and pinks like a pearl. Long panels extended from the blouse to down to her knees, being the same ivory color but the inside lining was a gradient from pale seafoam to stormy ocean waters.

Ferdinand frowned, trying to look at her face, “My apologies, have we met before?”

She smiled, “Don’t you remember me?”

“You seem familiar,” He tilted his head to the side. She _ was _familiar, but it was like he was staring at a foggy version of whoever she was supposed to be.

“We’ve only met once before,” She stepped closer to him, speaking in a soft, sing-song voice, “But I remembered you after all these years, as I’m sure you have as well.”

Ferdinand felt a slight headache come on. In pain, he touched his temple as the world seemed to get foggier and fuzzier. It was harder to focus now that she was closer to him, her voice in his ear.

_ “I should go…” _ He said. But he wasn’t sure if he said that out loud.

She was standing right next to him, “My poor dove… you don’t have to go back.”

_ “But they’re waiting for me.” _

Her hand touched his cheek gently, “You’ll be alright in my hands, Ferdinand. After all, don’t you remember me?”

Now that he thought about it, she was starting to look more familiar.

_ “This fountain… we met here?” _ He asked, the pain in his head grew worse.

“We did, so many years ago. Now then… why don’t we make up for lost time?”

She seemed to glow in the morning light. Or… was there something glowing in front of her? It almost looked like the shape of a Crest? Or… was he seeing things?

The pain dulled in his head and then he blinked. It felt as if she was a hallucination, a simple childhood memory that had overcome him in the moment. He steadied his balance, as he was still looking into the fountain. His reflection looked back at him, but he noticed something different. His hair, which was usually tame, was out of place and slightly awry. He stood up straighter, his jacket was gone and his white school uniform shirt was covered in dirt. His hair felt damp and so did the rest of his clothes, a light scent of roses wafted off of his clothing.

And then he realized that the sun had set, the only light being from the lamps on the streets of Enbarr.


	27. Chapter 26: Afternoon Date

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-Six ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Afternoon Date ⋅ ✦

* * *

_ A few hours earlier... _

Claude

╚═════════ ∘◦ ☾ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Admittedly, when the professors asked Claude to go along with them on their secret mission, he wasn’t expecting it to take him all the way to Enbarr. _ It was a glittering city, filled with both the wealthiest people he had ever seen along with the most impoverished. The difference was staggering and admittedly shocking, Derdriu hadn’t been like Enbarr. While Ferdinand headed inside to talk to his father, the class seemed to be left to their own devices. All of the Black Eagles knew Enbarr, they all had been there multiple times before. Hell, some of them probably lived there.

The only people who weren’t familiar with the city appeared to be himself, Byriel, and Byleth. The two professors looked at the city with a sort of childlike curiosity, and it occurred to Claude that they likely had never been to a place like this before.

“We should secure the terrain… ” Byleth stated, staring at the tall buildings.

“Excellent idea, Professor,” Edelgard nodded at her, then looked at Byriel, “How shall we divide?”

Byriel went quiet, clearly thinking. He had a certain expression, Claude noticed, when he was deep in thought; eyes narrowed, nose slightly scrunched, his hand pressed to his chin, it was what the noble liked to refer to as his ‘thinking expression’.

“We don’t know how the assassin is going to attack,” He eventually said, “But he has to escape in the end. So what we should do is cut off any possible escapes first.”

Claude smiled a little; it was a good plan, though probably not his first one. He knew that any assassin with the spine to go after someone like the Prime Minister was either a professional that knew what he was doing or some kind of idiot that wouldn’t make it past the front door.

Considering that they were here at all told Claude that this was a professional. And professionals had a tendency to think outside the box when it came to infiltration enemy territory. While Claude had faith in his professor to be able to stop the assassin, he still felt nervous. Byriel was no doubt a skilled mercenary, but how would he fare against a potentially professional killer?

His professor continued, “Usually assassins go in the cover of night, I think Duke Aegir is probably safe until then. Regardless, Byleth can you keep an eye on him? I want to look around Enbarr to examine the terrain and city, just to see what the most likely escape route would be.”

She frowned, “You’re going to get lost.”

“No, I won’t,” He made a face, “I have a great sense of direction. Besides, it’s just a city. It can’t be that much of a maze.”

Edelgard offered, “If you would prefer, I can accompany you, Professor-.”

Claude quickly interrupted her, “I can go with you, Teach.”

The rest of the class gave him a look. Hubert especially looked pretty unfriendly with the way he was glaring at Claude.

“You’ve never stepped foot into Enbarr before.” Hubert pointed out.

“You don’t know that. In fact, I’ve been to Enbarr a few times,” Claude smoothly lied, grinning.

“Is that so?” Hubert crossed his arms, suspicious.

Despite never going there, the trickster had certainly  _ read  _ about it. From historical records and scraps of news that had happened, it shouldn’t have been too hard to navigate the capital of the Empire.

“It is!” Claude laughed, “So the rest of you can go about your own devices and Teach and I will meet back with you after securing the area!”

Edelgard frowned, “ _ Just _ you and the professor?”

Byleth spoke up, “It’s alright, they can go while the rest of us do the same.”

That was… unexpected.

“By?” Her brother squinted at her.

Byleth walked to Edelgard’s side and gave a pointed look to Claude, “If he gets hurt, there will be severe consequences.”

Though her tone didn’t change, the noble felt a sudden chill shoot down his spine at those words.

Byriel gave a slight sigh and shook his head, “Alright… Claude, you’ll be coming with me.”

The princess still looked stern but resigned and turned to Byleth, “Very well. Shall we, Professor?”

Byleth nodded, and the three walked off to speak to the rest of the Black Eagles. Leaving Byriel and Claude alone.

But before the noble could say something smart, Byriel was already walking down the street, “Come on, we don’t have all day. Keep up.”

Claude smirked a bit, “If I knew we were going on a date, I would’ve brought you flowers.”

“If I knew this was a date, I would have turned you down.”

“Break my heart why don’t you!”

Byriel turned his face away from Claude, though for a moment the noble was sure that the professor had the barest hints of a smile on his face, “Let’s go.”

Claude laughed and walked beside his professor, looking around as they explored Enbarr. While it became apparent rather quickly that the noble had no idea where he was going or what he was doing, Byriel didn’t seem to mind. Enbarr, while unfamiliar to either of them, was a pretty sight to look at. The afternoon rolled in rather quickly and it became obvious that they both needed something to eat. With much confusion and asking for directions, they eventually came across a street with various vendors of street food.

Byriel was immediately attracted to one particular stand and soon afterward came back to Claude with two warm pastries wrapped in paper. After getting handed it, the sweet smell of cinnamon and fresh baked goods wafted into his face. He leaned in to take a small bite to taste it, the tastes of crackling thinly layered dough, cinnamon, sweet glaze, and walnuts overwhelmed senses.

“The vendor said that these are honey cinnamon rolls. They’re kinda like… street baklava,” Byriel said, his expression perking up.

Claude remembered suddenly that when Byriel had hugged him before, he carried a sort of sweet and spicy scent on him. Now he was able to put a name to it and felt stupid for not recognizing the scent of cinnamon on the professor. Cinnamon and fire, a combination that was bewitching, to say the least.

The noble smiled a bit, “Ever have something like this before, Teach?”

Byriel shook his head, “Not really. There was an innkeeper we met in Remire Village who made something similar, but that’s about it. I really do like sweets things, but I didn’t get them a lot when I was a mercenary.”

“Right, I imagine you don’t run into those things on the road a lot… ” Claude tilted his head a bit, “How long were you a mercenary again?”

He thought for a moment, “I think about ten years. But my sister and I were traveling with our dad while he did various mercenary jobs as long as I can remember.”

The noble smiled a little, “Ten years… I guess you were just a kid then. How old were you?”

Byriel made a face, “I don’t know.”

Claude narrowed his eyes, “You don’t know? How old are you?”

“I also don’t know that.”

An expression of disbelief spread across the noble’s face, “Seriously!?”

“Jeralt doesn’t keep track of that stuff. And I also haven’t bothered to keep track recently either.”

The noble stared at Byriel, looking for any indication that he was joking or lying somehow. But the former mercenary looked completely serious, which was even more baffling to Claude.

“Well, I suppose that’s just another mystery for me to solve,” Claude shrugged, “I doubt you and your sister are much older then I am.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” Byriel frowned.

Another idea occurred to Claude, “I wonder… if you’re twins, then which one of you is the older twin?”

“It’s me. I don’t care what Byleth says, it’s definitely me.” He stated bluntly.

Claude chuckled, “You seem pretty confident about that. Still, she seems to be very protective of you, Teach.”

Byriel scrunched his nose a bit, “She’s always been that way. But I’m the one making sure her boots are tied before she goes out swinging a sword recklessly.”

The noble burst out laughing at the statement.

“What’s so funny?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Claude grinned, “Why don’t we go walk around for a bit, Teach?”

Byriel still pouted, but he nodded and began to follow the noble. Odd, considering that Claude was supposed to be following him, but he guessed that either way neither of them really knew where they were going. The noble had read that Enbarr was huge, but he didn’t think that it was so huge that it was  _ that _ easy to get lost in. All the buildings looked the same, and it felt as though Claude was walking in circles.

Eventually, there came a bridge that he definitely hadn’t seen before. One that led to what the noble assumed was a city square of some kind but was oddly not as crowded as some of the other places in Enbarr was. It spanned over a river that ran in straits throughout the city, and as they crossed over it Claude noticed Byriel staring over the edge and down at the water with the same curiosity as before. The noble stepped next to him, seeing that Byriel was staring down at a small group of fish that circled the water beneath the bridge.

“I never thought that these rivers actually had fish in them.” The professor said, not taking his eyes off the shadows beneath them.

Claude smiled slightly, “Well, you’d be surprised at how well things can adapt.”

While Byriel stared down at the water, Claude focused his attention more on the line of buildings and stores on the other side of the strait. It all seemed so polished and precise, almost unreal. Almost… too good to be true.

“You’re not from Fódlan, right?” Byriel asked.

The noble kept his eyes on the buildings, but the words sent a sudden jab of alarm though Claude, “Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Just a guess because you said you’ve been here before, but we’ve been lost for a while now.” The professor stated.

Claude realized his mistake, “Shit…”

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” Byriel added.

He looked to the former mercenary, “I thought you’d be curious about that.”

“Oh, I am,” Byriel met his gaze, “I’m very curious to know you better. But I can wait for you to tell me when you want to.”

Claude frowned, “Huh?”

“It’s your secret, your business. I won’t pressure you or ask you to tell me until you want to.”

“Where’s this coming from?” The noble asked.

Byriel shrugged, “I just wanted you to know that…” He paused, “Also my dad is unlikely to kill you for being within ten feet of me, so don’t take it personally.”

The noble smirked a bit, “Ah, well, I’m used to people being a bit suspicious of me. It’s actually quite flattering that Jeralt said so to my face. I’m even amazed that your sister let me be alone with you.”

Byriel took another bite of baklava, his face stoic, “They treat me like I’m made of glass or something. Like I’m going to break at any moment. They’d never say it, but I know that’s what they’re thinking.”

Admittedly, Claude wasn’t expecting that from the professor.

“I can’t imagine why they’d think that,” Claude narrowed his eyes a bit, “I’ve seen you fight and lead us to victory. Why would they think you were fragile or something?”

The former mercenary’s expression morphed into sadness. The same one he had when he asked Claude not to abandon him, something that the noble still didn’t know why Byriel believed in such a thing anyway.

“I was in a pretty bad accident in my early days of being a mercenary,” Byriel said, “I lost something pretty important, but I was able to get it back. Regardless, they both are always so worried for me with whatever I do.”

Claude narrowed his eyes a bit, curious as to what his professor meant. He would’ve asked, maybe pried a little with his charisma, but Byriel hadn’t pressed the topic of Claude not being from Fódlan so he figured he could at least return the favor.

The noble huffed a laugh, “Well, I certainly don’t think you’re fragile. Fragile things don’t blow themselves up and walk away in one piece.”

Byriel squinted at Claude, “You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” Claude winked at the professor, “I mean, why should I let any part of you go, Teach?”

He expected the professor to deflect the joke as he typically did. At this point, he had a feeling a lot flew over the mercenary’s head, which made it a lot easier for the noble to tease him and, hopefully, get him to slip up at some point.

But instead, Byriel defied his expectations again and grabbed his hand, holding it, “Guess I won’t be letting go of any part of you any time soon, either. But that also doesn’t mean I’m going to fall for any of your unsavory schemes or tricks.”

“Wha-”

Byriel looked over at him, his eyes glinting like sapphires and his grin mischievous, “I’ve caught every single dirty joke you’ve thrown my way. I’m not that naive, Claude.”

The noble felt his thoughts come to a screeching halt. It was a slap in the face.

“I-” Claude struggled for words. For any sort of comeback or remark to turn the tables back in his favor.

The professor smirked at him, “Looks like I won that one. You didn’t even see that coming, did you?”

Claude scoffed, “W-Well, I-!”

“I can’t date you since I’m your teacher, you know that right?”

Of course, he knew that. Seteth would’ve killed them if that happened, or Byriel could’ve been put into a lot more trouble. Maybe even fired for inappropriate conduct. If it were anyone else, he’d change his mind. But Byriel Eisner was too interesting to just let go of. There were too many schemes in the work to let the professor go yet. He still had a use for the professor, and there was a part of him that wanted him not because he was a good pawn in his game.

Byriel was someone he cared about. He was right, he had won already, won over Claude at least. But the game wasn’t over yet.

“That may be so, but I’ve never been one to follow the rules,” The noble gave a devilish smile to Byriel, “There’s a lot we still have to get done, so don’t think that I’m going to just abandon you or use you for ‘unsavory conduct’, Teach.”

The professor looked confused, “What?”

Claude squeezed Byriel’s hand tighter, “You’re much too important, and I meant it when I said I’m not going to let you go that easily. We have a lot more to do, a lot more to accomplish. I have a feeling that when this school year ends, our lives will still be intertwined together afterward.”

Byriel stared at him for a moment, but his cheeks turned visibly pink as he suddenly looked to his feet. A faint smile over his lips.

_ Dammit,  _ Claude thought to himself,  _ He’s adorable. _

But before Claude could say anything else, their little date was interrupted by Petra, who quickly approached them.

Byriel pulled his hand away from Claude’s before she could see, “Petra, is something wrong?”

“Yes,” She furrowed her brows, “Ferdinand has disappeared.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Edelgard

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♚ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Of all people to protect, it had to be one of the foulest and two-faced snakes in all of Fódlan. _ If it were left to Edelgard, she would personally give the assassin the sword to slit Duke Aegir’s throat with.

The princess had a long list of useless nobles she would love nothing more than to cast away, but the Prime Minister was one of the few that was the first she planned to get rid of once she was Emperor. The family was already too pleased with their position of power, and the incompetent fool had already abused it well beyond anyone’s patience.

Edelgard did wonder, however, how someone like Ferdinand could be related to someone like Duke Aegir. While her fellow student was arrogant, he wasn’t as callous as the Prime Minister. The man was already an unpleasant blight whenever he was on official business, all arrogant sneers, and empty smiles, so she couldn’t even fathom what he was like normally.

But, given Ferdinand’s expression, as he walked into the estate alone, she had a feeling that the duke was the same towards his family as he was towards the people.

Sickening.

“We should secure the area quickly while Byriel and Claude are gone.” Professor Byleth spoke up, addressing the rest of the Black Eagle class.

“Very well,” Edelgard nodded, “How shall we divide ourselves, Professor?”

The former mercenary looked thoughtful, looking over her students carefully. Though both professors were not as expressive, Byleth was easier to assume the thoughts of over her unpredictable brother.

“Caspar, Linhardt, and Bernadetta go in one group,” Byleth spoke up after a moment, “Petra, Dorothea, and myself.”

“Then that leaves me, Hubert and Ferdinand,” Edelgard concluded. It was the best option, from a strength standing that is.

“Yes.” Byleth nodded, looking to the class, “Everyone, stay together and keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

There came a resounding cry of affirmation, and the groups split off. However, while some of the groups were content with simply surveying the streets, homes, and nearby businesses, Edelgard knew that, of all people, her valet would have much more creative and likely means of pinning down how their potential assassin would strike.

As Hubert glanced over the area ever so, he spoke up, “Such a brave killer we have on our hands, making the Prime Minister their target.”

“Yes,” She nodded, “Very brave, or very foolish…”

Her valet didn’t respond, but she had known him long enough to guess that he was thinking of something important.

She frowned, “You aren’t worried, are you?”

“Why should I?” Hubert asked, “I am no stranger to violence, Lady Edelgard. I ask that you leave the bloodshed to me.”

Edelgard scowled, “Hubert.”

“Do you doubt me?”

“Of course not,” She crossed her arms, “But the bigger question is if you doubt  _ me _ to aide  _ you _ ?”

He almost smiled, “Not at all, but a leader must be seen as pure. Above the fray.”

She wasn’t surprised he deflected the question. He was infuriatingly good at doing such.

“The Prime Minister certainly doesn’t seem that way.”

Hubert glowered at the thought, “He’s nothing more than a traitor. If circumstances were different, I would suggest we give our killer entry to the estate and leave them to their own devices.”

As grim as the idea was, the princess almost wanted to laugh at the idea of him thinking the same thing as her. But alas, Duke Aegir was more valuable alive than dead.

For now, that is.

“I agree,” Edelgard raised her head to look her valet in the eyes, “But it would be more trouble if he ended up dead before everything was ready.”

After quickly going over the area, the two went back to wait for Ferdinand. Edelgard assumed that he would’ve finished talking to his father in the time it would take for Hubert to get a good lay of the land, but when they stood by the main gates the only one waiting was the maid that called herself Emma.

“Your highness, it’s so nice to see you once again!” She bowed, smiling wide at the two.

Hubert immediately stepped forward, strategically putting himself between the maid and Edelgard.

“There is no need for formalities,” Edelgard replied, standing tall, “But I must ask you the duke is still in a meeting with his son.”

The maid blinked her wide, ice-colored eyes at them, “Oh, the duke’s son? He left just moments ago.”

“What?” Hubert glared at her, “Where did he run off to?”

“Apologies,” She lamented, “He left so quickly that I could not catch a single word from him.”

Anger flared in Edelgard’s skin, though it wasn’t anger aimed at Ferdinand alone. The noble didn’t just ‘run-off’, so something must’ve happened to make him leave on purpose.

“Hubert, we need to find him,” Edelgard ordered sternly, locking her gaze with Emma’s, “Which direction did he go?”

The woman looked over the area, then pointed down one street, “I think he went that direction. Towards the Opera House.”

Edelgard began to walk in that direction. However, she didn’t go too far before stopping when she realized Hubert was still staring daggers at Emma. The maid, however, didn’t even flinch at the expression.

“Is everything alright, Hubert?” Edelgard asked.

He walked back to her side as if nothing had happened, “For now, let’s try and find our fellow classmate.”

The two quickly moved in the direction that Ferdinand had supposedly gone, rounding the streets looking for any sign of the missing noble. Surely, he didn’t go  _ that _ far, did he?

Their trail ended at a water fountain in a small square not far off from the Mittlefrank Opera House, as the duke’s townhome wasn’t too far of a walk to the golden building. This fountain, however, was somewhat isolated between the buildings. Not a soul was within sight, and it wasn’t exactly a place where people were likely to stop for very long.

Hubert scowled, “That damned fool… where could he have run off to?”

“I don’t know… ” Edelgard searched over the area; nothing but dust and a floral-like smell so faint she swore it was simply part of her imagination, “It’s unlike Ferdinand to just disappear like this.”

A dark thought did occur to the princess though; what if the assassin they were hunting took advantage of the noble being alone and abducted him? It was a dark possibility, one that Edelgard wanted to dismiss quickly. Ferdinand was physically capable of fighting on his own, he was talented with lances and swords, and there would be no purpose in taking him if his intentions were to kill the duke.

But they also didn’t know if the would-be killer’s intentions were to kill the entire Aegir family.

“Oh, what are you two doing here?”

Edelgard turned, seeing Professor Byleth waiting with Petra and Dorothea at the entrance to the small hidden square.

Hubert stood by the princess’s side, “Professor.”

“Where’s Ferdinand?” Byleth asked.

Edelgard grew tense, “Missing. He ran off while no one was looking.”

“What?!” Dorothea stepped forward, bright green eyes wide with confusion and shock.

“Has he been the missing for long?” Petra asked, confused at the very notion of Ferdinand disappearing.

“We don’t know… ” Edelgard admitted, feeling a pang of guilt for not waiting for the noble.

Byleth was quiet, the silent panic in her face obvious. Edelgard wondered if the same dark thoughts were running through the professor’s head as well.

“Everyone, we need to spread out and find him before the sun sets,” Byleth stated, her expression set in determination, “Stay in the groups as before, but we all meet back at the Aegir home. If you see Caspar, Linhardt, Bernadetta. Claude or my brother, inform them immediately of what’s going on. Alright?”

The students agreed and both Dorothea and Petra went in a different direction down the street. Byleth, however, lingered back and looked to Edelgard and Hubert. The princess expected the young professor to lecture the two of them for leaving Ferdinand behind, though her expression hinted more at worry than anger.

“Do you have any idea as to where else he could’ve gone?”

Edelgard shook her head, “Unfortunately, no.”

The princess knew him before entering the academy, but they could hardly be called close. Ferdinand was the son of the Prime Minister and she the daughter of the Emperor, so due to their respected fathers’ work, their paths briefly crossed once or twice. It was an arms-length relationship, one strained with her fellow student constantly trying to compete against her, but it was one where she knew that Ferdinand would never run off and disappear like this. If he had, for whatever reason, it had to be something serious.

She didn’t like Ferdinand that much, but she didn’t want anything happening to him. Regardless of their relationship, he was still her fellow student.

“We’ll find him,” Edelgard stated, sternly, “And if anyone was foolish enough to leave a scratch on him, they’ll regret ever doing so.”

Byleth nodded, “Right. Let’s search together then.”

The princess nodded, and as she followed Byleth with her valet in toe she made sure that a small hand axe she kept on her person was ready if things escalated.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

The longer they searched, the more unease Edelgard felt. By the time everyone had returned to the front of the Aegir home, the sky was the color of blood as the sun began to descend behind the city, casting long, dark shadows across the streets and people remaining. Even though the air was warm, comforting even, Edelgard felt cold; Ferdinand hadn’t appeared in the hours they searched, and as time ticked more and more, she began to think about the worst possible outcome for their fellow student.

Everyone in their group had returned to the Aegir home, their expressions varying degrees of worry and fear, as it was likely they were thinking the same thing.

“Nothing on our end.” Dorothea looked tense.

“Same for us,” Byleth muttered.

“Damn it! Where did he go?!” Caspar cried, looking angry.

“Maybe he took a nap somewhere…” Linhardt suggested.

“This is no time to joke around!” Dorothea glared at the tired student, “Ferdie could be in serious trouble!”

Linhardt flinched a bit at the words, but then he frowned, “I’m taking this seriously, believe me. But I can’t think of any other idea as to where he could be.”

Everyone looked uneasy, but before any panic could unfold, Byleth spoke up.

“I know everyone’s worried,” She stated, “But we can’t risk jeopardizing the mission in our search. So what we are going to do is split the groups once more, half going back to looking for Ferdinand and the other protecting the house.”

Byriel frowned, but he nodded, “I agree… it’s probably the best course of action we have. I can protect the Prime Minister and you can lead the search.”

Byleth looked to her brother, “I can guard the Prime Minister, don’t worry about that.”

Her brother scowled a little, and though the expression was a bit cute on him, Edelgard could tell that he didn’t like the idea remotely.

“Not a problem for us, right Teach?” Claude smirked a bit, “You can leave the search to us while you watch over the Prime Minister.”

Edelgard nodded, “That will suffice. I will go with you on the search.”

Though the pairing was less desirable, she supposed anything would be better than having to guard the vile Prime Minister.

Byleth, seemingly satisfied with the idea, looked to the rest of the Black Eagle students, “Very well… Dorothea, Petra, and Caspar, I will need you to stay with me-”

“I will also join you, professor.” Hubert suddenly added.

Edelgard turned to her valet, eyes wide with shock at the request, “Hubert?”

Even Byleth looked a bit surprised at the statement, “Is that alright with you… ?”

The valet gave a cold smile, “I believe my abilities would best suit your needs, professor.”


	28. Chapter 27: The Spider

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Emotional and physical abuse from a father figure to a son
> 
> Battle Music for the Chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CCtOmOFTctM

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-Seven ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ T̴͕̠̔h̵͚̔͘e̵͉̎̓ ̴̣̩̒͑S̵͇͗͌p̵̡̨̔î̴̥͘d̸͓̻̽͋e̴̫͝ŗ̸̠̇ ⋅ ✦

* * *

Hubert

╚═════════ ∘◦ ✶ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ In normal circumstances, leaving the side of Lady Edelgard would be an impossibility. _ It was Hubert’s sole duty as her vassal to remain close. However, there was another silent obligation that he had been given; to be the silent hand that extinguishes threats that silently crawl through the shadows before they can bear their fangs.

As the rest of the Black Eagle class was divided according to what the professors wanted, no one noticed as Lady Edelgard stepped over to him with lavender-colored eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?” She accused, though there was no real anger in her voice.

All the valet could do was smile at her, “It is nothing that you need to be concerned with, Lady Edelgard.”

She glared at him, a fairly familiar expression to him, “I can switch places with someone then.”

He shook his head, “There is no need for that. I ask that you focus your attention on finding our missing classmate. Leave guarding the Prime Minister to us.”

“Hubert, just-!” Lady Edelgard let out a sigh, “Just… be careful, alright? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The valet felt his heart sink at the words, but quickly put the feelings aside. He did not fear death if it meant dying for her. And though the sentiment meant a great deal to him, more then he wanted to admit, it was better to keep such appreciation silent to avoid distraction.

“Hey, are we ready?” Byriel was looking in their direction, waiting.

Lady Edelgard gave another look to Hubert, “That’s an order, Hubert; if it gets too dangerous, I order you to retreat.”

Hubert had to refrain from smiling at her expression. He gave her a brief bow, “As you wish, Lady Edelgard.”

Those words at least seemed to dispel some of the concerns she seemed to carry for his well-being.

She parted ways, following Professor Byriel and the search party he had conducted, leaving Hubert with Professor Byleth, Caspar, Lindhart, and Petra behind to watch Duke Aegir. His fellow classmates had varying emotions over their faces, ranging from concern to boredom, though of course, Professor Byleth was the exception.

“Alright then, we need to make sure no one enters the building,” she stated, “I want you all on your guard.”

_ How careless. _ Hubert couldn’t help but think such a thing when listening to the professor’s words. Then again, it was his duty to eliminate people like their assassin while it was her and her brother’s to blindly rush into battle and slice at everything they saw.

Though they were smart, they didn’t know what to look for regarding assassins.

Professor Byleth divided the groups as leaving Caspar, Lindhart, and Petra together while he and Byleth herself were to remain together. Not preferable, she was extremely observant and Hubert needed to find a means to slip away from the rest of the crowd.

“Alright then!” Caspar shouted with vigor, “Whoever that assassin is, they better be ready to fight me!”

“Maybe don’t scream that we’re coming?” Lindhart asked through a yawn.

“I hope they come!” Caspar declared, “I hope they come and face me!”

The valet felt his headache at the sheer volume of his fellow student’s voice.

“What is to be the plan if they do?” Petra asked.

“I’ll beat them to a pulp when they show up!”

“A pulp…?” Petra questioned.

“It’s an expression,” Byleth explained.

“Ah, I see…”

As they were speaking, Caspar was scanning the area with excitement at the potential fight. Coming up with some sort of distraction, Hubert looked over to the smaller student.

“We should ensure that the surrounding buildings are covered. Our assassin could be hiding in one of them.”

“Like hell they are!” Caspar declared angrily, turning his gaze to look over the buildings. Before Hubert, or anyone for that matter could say anything Caspar shot down the street like a horse let free of its reins.

“Where are you, coward?!” He screamed down the street.

Panic flashed over Lindhart and Byleth’s faces.

“Caspar, wait!” Byleth sprinted after him.

“Don’t run off ahead, especially if I have to chase you down!” Linhardt broke into a run as well, following him as well.

That left only Hubert and a very confused Petra watching. The Brigid princess looked to the valet for some sort of clarification.

He smiled a bit, “I ask that you wait here for a moment, they will return shortly.”

“And what are you to be doing?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I will cut him off on the other side. Wait here for the professor to return.”

Petra looked skeptical, but she sighed, “Very well…”

With that, Hubert was easily able to slip away relatively unnoticed and into Aegir’s unlocked townhouse. An odd detail, considering the paranoid noble, but the valet knew already that the assassin they were looking for wasn’t the type to break in through windows.

At this point, no servants were around to stop him as he searched through various rooms. Eventually he did find what was a sort of drawing room, and standing in it alone was the woman who had called herself Emma. The moment Hubert was in sight, she straightened and smiled at him.

“Oh, you’re from earlier.” She stated.

“Indeed.” Hubert held his arms behind his back.

“May I help you with anything?”

“I was curious… you’re a recent addition, yes?” He questioned, recalling Ferdinand’s confusion from earlier.

She tapped the side of her cheek, “Oh that… yes, I’ve only worked here for a week.”

“Is that so?” Hubert smiled coldly at her. There was something about this woman that set the valet on the alert. He had spent enough time against foul individuals that his intuition was rarely wrong, and there was something about this woman ‘Emma’ that unnerved him.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You saw Ferdinand leave, yes?”

“Oh, have you found him yet?”

“No but…” He could feel the building of miasma in his palm, “You seemed very certain in the direction he left in, despite him moving so fast you said you couldn’t catch a single word from him.”

Emma frowned, “Oh… I suppose that I notice silly things like that.”

The valet grinned, “I see. Well, if you don’t have anything else that could be useful, then I will take my leave.”

The woman looked confused but didn’t take her eyes off him. As the valet began to leave, his back just barely turned to her, he let go of the miasma spell. Not a strong one, it rebounded just a bit as he let it go, but his aim was dead set on the floor just inches in front of her.

If this woman was an average maid, she would’ve cowered or screamed. But that’s not what this one did. She jumped backwards, and Hubert caught the glimpse of something gleaming through the air that landed in the wall with a solid _ thud _ by Hubert’s head. One quick glimpse over, and he saw a knife sunk into the wood. If it were any closer, it would’ve killed him.

“Decided to show yourself now?” He asked, preparing a new spell.

The woman frowned, “Aw, well, I suppose I just gave it away.”

“It wasn’t too difficult to figure it out. Did you take Ferdinand?” He scowled at her.

“No, Her judgment is for the Prime Minister alone. But if you intend to stand in the way of divine punishment, then I shall have to eliminate you as well.”

Hubert stared at the would-be killer, “So you intend to kill the Prime Minister in the name of the Goddess…how wasteful.”

“She wills me to do so.” The assassin smiled, though there was something off about the expression. Something quite mad beneath the surface.

“Though I wouldn’t mind you slitting the man’s throat, I am to keep him alive as ordered.” Hubert held his hand up, miasma boiling in his palm.

The assassin still smiled, “I should warn you; not many people get away from the Spider alive.”

Hubert frowned, “Spider-?”

As he questioned the name, there was a sudden sharp pain against Hubert’s face. He hissed out a curse and threw the miasma. It was off, and the assassin was able to move out of the way as it splashed against the wall. The valet felt the blood run from a thin cut on his face, but he had not seen any weapon or spell be used.

In the moment the valet was confused by the source of the weapon, the would-be assassin ran. The maid easily vaulted over the nearby table and gracefully landed, bolting towards the prime minister’s office. Hubert, not as athletically inclined, slammed into the table as he attempted to chase after her. Stunned for a moment, he pushed himself around the table and followed after her.

As he rounded the corner towards the office, he heard the loud crash of a door being kicked open. Followed quickly by the high-pitched shriek of the Prime Minister. It vaguely reminded Hubert of the sound livestock made before the slaughter. He ran towards the open office; the assassin was struggling to keep the duke’s throat locked in a chokehold, but the Prime Minister fought and screamed, likely running on adrenaline and the will to live, as his potential killer tried to drive a knife into the man’s throat.

From behind, the valet could distinctly hear Caspar yelling something. Likely they had caught onto the noise at this point and were about to rush in to attack. Working quickly to dispose of the problem, Hubert summoned a downpour of dark violet mire upon the assassin. She pulled away quickly, releasing her hold on the prime minister. Raising an arm to cover her eyes, she coughed and backed away from her target, the knife getting impaled into the floor.

Hubert lunged for her, easily cornering the assassin and shoving the maid against the wall with his arm pressing into her throat. His other hand pinning her wrist in place and halting her from potentially stabbing him with her deadly blade. Her free arm tried to push Hubert away, but it was clear that she was much faster than she was strong.

“What’s going on?!” Lady Edelgard’s voice called from not too far away.

The Prime Minister, now a sobbing and pathetic mess, let out a shriek that carried no words. Though it was enough to signal to the rest that something was wrong.

“Release me…!” The maid choked out, baring her teeth.

“Who sent you?”

“The Goddess!”

Hubert put more of his weight against the hold, causing her to let out a strangled cry. But then the assassin laughed.

“Were you expecting someone else… ?”

“I find it hard to believe you’d do something this foolish for the sake of the goddess.” Hubert glared at her.

She grinned, madness gleaming in her face, “She wills me to eliminate the ones who disrespect Her… and the ones who get in the way of my doing so.”

As the words rang out, the maid raised her unrestrained arm upward in a harsh, jerking motion. There was a sound, something similar to a fishing line being reeled in, and there came a sharp pain similar from before against Hubert’s arm. In the blink of an eye, she held a knife in her hand.

The valet released the woman and tried to pull back, avoiding the blade from hitting him in the shoulder but still getting slashed deep enough that it left a burning, searing pain behind. In the rush of violence, Hubert reached and grabbed at her blonde hair in a fist and tried to pull her head back against the wall. However, doing so, it didn’t feel as though he had grabbed onto anything solid and the assassin managed to generate enough force to shove Hubert back enough to create space between them.

“Hubert!” Lady Edelgard’s voice cried out. She was the first one to enter, along with Claude and the professors.

The valet stumbled back, now holding a mop of an unnaturally blonde mop of fake hair in his hand. The assassin stood tall, confident, his ice-blue eyes concentrating on Hubert as his raven black hair framed his sharp features.

“You’re a guy?!” Claude gaped at the assassin.

Surprisingly the assassin looked proud, “I know, I look great in a skirt. But let’s save the compliments for another time.”

“That may be so, but that has nothing to do with this!” Byriel bluntly said.

“By, focus!” Byleth cried.

The Prime Minister shot his gaze to the group, “Wh-What the hell are you waiting for?! Kill him!”

Lady Edelgard shot a glare to the duke, but most of her attention seemed fixed upon the assassin. However, before she could move, Hubert stepped in front of her. Shielding her from any attacks.

“Hubert-!” She began to argue.

“Be cautious, Lady Edelgard,” He watched the unusually calm assassin with suspicion.

“Your cheek!” She was looking at the cut on his face.

“He has some kind of weapon I’ve yet to see.” Hubert glared at the would-be killer.

“Ah, I never elaborated why people call me the Spider, have I?”

The assassin fanned out his fingers, mirror-like knives gleaming between each digit. They were flat and sleek with a sharp point yet no handle, nothing like the throwing knives Hubert had seen before. But he noticed the ends of the knives were gleaming wires tied to them, sharp and almost completely invisible in the low-lit room.

As the valet was realizing why their killer called himself a spider, the assassin threw his arm in an arc and launched four deadly blades right at them. The group only had less than a second to move out of the way before they could be hit by the knives and wire.

The Spider turned his gaze back at the cowering Prime Minister, holding a new blade in his other hand. Before he could take a step forward, Professor Byleth moved in front of the duke as a means of blocking the assassin from hitting his target, sword at the ready.

“You don’t want to pick a fight with us.” She warned.

The Spider grinned, “Oh, but I certainly want to.”

With that stated, Professor Byleth lunged for him. Drawing her sword, she began slashing rapidly at the assassin. The Spider dodged with grace and fluidity, sidestepping her every attempt to cut him down.

Her brother attempted to throw a ball of fire in the direction of the Spider, but he dodged and then bolted towards Byriel. The Spider kicked and landed a solid blow to Byriel’s chest, causing him to grunt and get sent back a few feet, catching his breath. Claude immediately ran to his side to make sure he was alright. The Spider, on the other hand, went for the prime minister once again.

As he bolted for the duke, Hubert attempted to intervene the Spider with another wave of Mire. However, as the poison rained down on the assassin, he withdrew what looked like a small glass vial from his sleeve and quickly drank down the contents of and made no attempt to shield himself from the poison. In fact, he seemed unphased by the toxins now as he still moved in closer to his target.

_ An antidote perhaps? _ Hubert gritted his teeth at the thought. What sort of alchemist or doctor could make an antidote or elixir strong enough to protect someone against poisons of this caliber?

The Spider held a new knife in his hand, his gaze set on the frozen duke, “Back to the Eternal Flames with you.”

“N-No, I’ll give you anything!” Duke Aegir pleaded in a rather pathetic display, “Please, don’t kill me!”

“Pay for your sins with your life, you vile dastard.” The assassin declared, wires gleaming in the light and blade ready to strike.

“That’s far enough!” Lady Edelgard yelled out, running around Hubert with a hand axe in her grip.

Without hesitating, she threw the small weapon at the assassin. The Spider had only a moment to register the projectile before moving just enough out of the way to avoid being directly hit. However, the edge of the axe managed to slice through his side. Leaving a shallow cut over his ribs that, while not fatal, would likely hurt. The distraction was enough that, as he tried to throw the fatal weapon at the duke, it slammed into the wall just above Aegir’s head. The man let out a scream, moving out of the way as quickly as his stout body could allow.

The Spider glared at the princess, “Don’t get in my way.”

Lady Edelgard glowered back at him, unmoving, “Think your next actions through carefully. You’re outnumbered and outmatched, and I am not as forgiving as the professors.”

The assassin’s fingers twitched slightly, and for a moment Hubert could hear that same reeling sound of wire again. The Spider’s eyes went around the room, scanning over the people he had to fight against in order to achieve his victory.

He frowned, realizing his disadvantage and making some sort of decision.

“Forgive me, but judgment will have to wait.” He apologized to the empty air.

“Giving up then?” Claude smiled a bit, “Then I guess you’ll have to come with us-”

“I made a promise to my friend that I’d return to him alive,” The Spider stretched out his fingers, “So with sincere apologies for this, I intend on making good on my oath.”

There was a _ click _ and the briefest flash of wire in the light. Everyone quickly looked around as Hubert could hear something dislodge from the walls behind them. He didn’t think, only acted as he ran to Lady Edelgard’s side and shielded her as what felt like a sharp blade ran right over his arms and shoulder.

The others also tried to shield themselves, but even they weren’t able to completely avoid getting sliced by the retreating knives and wires to some degree. The Spider held his four knives between each finger, and without even hesitating, ran for the window. He threw his shoulder against it, shattering glass and throwing himself out of the office in a rather reckless escape plan.

Still, as reckless as it was, it was only a moment before he had disappeared out of sight. As Hubert ran to the window, looking for where the Spider could’ve possibly gone, there was no sign of him.

Claude narrowed his eyes, “Dammit… he got away.”

Byriel made a face, clutching his chest, “I knew spiders weren’t to be trusted.”

Duke Aegir stood up, shaking and fuming, “Wh-What are you waiting for?! Go after him!”

“We can’t very well go after what we can’t see.” Byleth frowned.

From outside, Hubert could hear someone yelling. A familiar voice at that. 

“Is that… Ferdinand?” Byriel asked, eyes wide.

Without waiting to confirm it, the five immediately left the office and ran outside to the streets. There, looking quite disheveled and confused, was their previously missing classmate Ferdinand. He was holding his weapon, looking up at the estate.

“Ferdinand! Where have you been?!” Edelgard demanded.

“Up there!” He pointed to the top of the building.

When they did look, it took a moment for Hubert to fully process what he was seeing. Then when he did realize it, there was both a feeling of realization and shock as he now understood why their assassin had called himself the Spider.

Standing above them, over seven meters at least, was their assassin. Carefully balanced on what looked to be thin air. However, knowing what the Spider’s weapon was now, Hubert realized that he was standing on the same wires with the precision and resolve of a trained performer.

The Spider smiled down at them, a grin tinged with madness. Claude, snapping out of surprise first, pulled an arrow into his bow. However, the spider-like assassin simply walked across the wire to the next building and ran over the rooftop, running out of sight before the arrow even had a chance to leave the noble’s fingers.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Unsurprisingly, the Spider had completely disappeared. Neither the Black Eagles or Duke Aegir’s guards were able to follow the trail of a man capable of scaling buildings for very long before any and all traces of him vanished.

As the Black Eagles returned back to the estate, Ferdinand had remained behind. He was a mess, to put it lightly; his clothes were disheveled and his hair a mess, giving him the appearance of someone who had just pulled themselves out of bed and had not bothered to put themselves together properly.

“Any sign of him?” He asked as both Hubert and Lady Edelgard approached.

“Unfortunately he managed to get away cleanly,” The valet crossed his arms, “But I don’t think he’s likely to stay away for very long. He’ll probably strike again when we’re gone.”

“Hubert’s right,” Lady Edelgard frowned, “If the duke values his life, he should return to Aegir territory for now and keep his guards close.”

“I know,” Ferdinand nodded, “I’ll tell him to go back for now.”

“But, onto more pressing matters,” Hubert narrowed his gaze at his classmate, “Where exactly have you been all day?”

Ferdinand looked pale, seemingly searching for some kind of answer, “I… don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Byriel joined the group, the majority of his cuts patched up, and a look of confusion on his face. His sister wasn’t too far behind, standing next to him and looking equally concerned.

He struggled for words, “I-I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Ferdinand, just tell us what happened.” Byleth encouraged.

The three of them waited, staring at the noble as he tried to think of some kind of explanation. Ferdinand looked confused, even terrified the more he thought over what he was about to say.

“I was at the fountain down the street,” He said carefully, “I met someone, I think… then I realized how late it had gotten. But it only felt like a second.”

“You met someone? Who?” Lady Edelgard asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

“I don’t remember what she looked like,” Ferdinand clenched his fists, “But she seemed so familiar…?!”

“You make it seem like you met a ghost of some kind,” Hubert stated bluntly.

“I have no idea!” He cried, “I don’t remember anything that happened! I swear, I never meant to be gone for more than a minute, and the next thing I realize is that it had been hours!”

Before anyone could state their own thoughts on the matter, the grating voice of the Prime Minister snapped out, “Ferdinand!”

The duke was standing just a few feet away, furious. Ferdinand seemingly composed himself and turned to his father.

“Where the hell have you been?!” The duke demanded.

“I’m sorry, I never meant to be gone for this long.” The noble apologized.

Duke Aegir glared at Ferdinand, visibly shaking with anger, “That doesn’t answer my question! What was so important that you had the gall to leave me unguarded?!”

“He said it wasn’t his fault.” Byriel immediately spoke up, looking irritated at the duke.

“I didn’t ask _ you _.” The duke snapped back.

Ferdinand straightened, “I-I don’t know. I was at the fountain and this woman-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, and sadly before anyone could intervene, the duke raised his hand and slapped his son hard across the face.

“So you risk my life for some stupid fantasy?! Is that it?!” The duke demanded.

“Ferdinand!” Lady Edelgard cried, glaring at the duke, “Why you… you-!”

Ferdinand kept his expression stoic, the spot where the duke had hit him a bright scarlet, “I’m sorry, I-”

Duke Aegir cut him off, “You’re lucky I even consider you my legitimate heir and tolerate your insane delusions of water nymphs and fairies! You’re a disgrace to the Aegir name, and you do nothing but bring shame onto my name!”

Hubert felt his blood boil, preparing to shut the duke up with his bare hands if he had to. Lady Edelgard couldn’t do it, not without being punished in some way, but he had no fears about potentially being executed if it meant he could teach this insufferable pig a lesson in what happened to people who ran their mouths too long. 

Then he noticed that the professors’ expressions were murderous, their eyes looking as if they belonged to demons.

Byriel raised his sword, “You son of a bitch.”

The duke saw the weapon and flinched back.

Ferdinand raised his hand, stopping the professors before they could do the Spider’s job for him, “No, it’s my fault for leaving. I should’ve been more attentive to this. I apologize.”

Lady Edelgard stared at him with disbelief, “That’s-!”

“It won’t happen again,” Ferdinand spoke firmly.

Duke Aegir glowered at his son, then turned his back on them and stormed off without saying another word.

Byleth turned to the noble, “Ferdinand, we can-”

“Don’t,” He shook his head, “Just… please leave it alone.”

Byriel’s hands radiated heat, “I’ll kill him. _ No one _ lays a hand on my students.”

“It was my fault anyway.” Ferdinand insisted.

“That’s not an excuse!” Byriel cried, furious. It was the most emotion Hubert had ever seen on the professor’s face.

Ferdinand straightened, “I am Ferdinand von Aegir. I won’t let something like this prevent me from fulfilling our name’s obligation.”

Lady Edelgard glared, “How can you tolerate something like this, Ferdinand?!”

Their classmate didn’t respond, and it gave Hubert a feeling that this kind of behavior wasn’t uncommon for him. It made the valet feel sick thinking about it, but more so the realization that there was likely nothing any of them could do that wouldn’t end in execution.

“I ask that you keep this between us, please,” Ferdinand asked, his voice not as commanding as it usually was, “If word of this reached the wrong people, it could cause more trouble for the Aegir name.”

_ Or rather, more trouble for him. _

The group was silent, clearly unhappy with the request. But there was little anyone could do if their classmate was unwilling to take action himself.

After a long moment, the twin professors withdrew their weapons. Though neither of them looked happy to do so.

“Let’s gather everyone and head back to Garreg Mach.” Byriel stated, “The sooner we leave Enbarr, the better.”

Byleth nodded stiffly and the two walked off, followed by Ferdinand who didn’t even glance at Lady Edelgard as he walked by.

The princess’s hands were clenched tightly, anger boiling under her skin and ready to erupt.

“I understand your frustration, Lady Edelgard,” Hubert frowned, “But there is little to be done about it now.”

“When I am Emperor…” She began, “I will erase every corrupt noble like Duke Aegir off the face of Fódlan. No one will _ ever _ have to suffer by their hands again, not commoners and not Ferdinand. That is a promise.”

He nodded, “I understand. And I will gladly tie the noose for you if you ask me to.”


	29. Chapter 28: Afterward

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-Eight ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Afterward ⋅ ✦

* * *

Dimitri

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_ Though the Blue Lion’s professor was a rather quiet person from the start, the monastery somehow felt even more so without her or her brother. _ Dimitri supposed he had gotten used to seeing them enough that, with both of them absent, things felt off. And when they had returned from whatever mission they and the Black Eagle class had, they both seemed upset despite their usual stoic nature.

He wanted to ask what was wrong, and if there was anything he could do to help, but he was at a loss for how he should approach the issue. Dimitri was, unfortunately, not the best with handling these sorts of things delicately. In the days that followed, whatever it was seemed to be pushed to the side and things returned to a somewhat normal pace. As the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth grew closer, Dimitri did his best to keep up with his studies and weapons training. 

It was what he was expected to do, but it didn’t seem right if there was something bothering his professor. Even though she pressed on with teaching, she seemed distant.

No matter how much he wanted to push it aside, he didn’t feel it was right to ignore it.

When he looked for her, his professor was sitting on the steps by the monastery’s pond again and watching the water. The prince hesitated for a moment, briefly reconsidering the idea and leaving her alone, but he pressed forward and walked down the steps to her side.

“Professor?” He spoke up, breaking the silence.

She straightened and looked over to him, “Hm? Oh, it’s you, Dimitri… Did you need me for anything?”

He frowned, “No, but I was wondering if  _ you _ needed anything from us?”

Byleth blinked, confused, “Me?”

“I-I suppose that…” He struggled for the right words, “I was worried if something happened during your mission with the Black Eagles.”

Her eyes widened for just a moment, and she looked as though she wanted to say something. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to confirm his suspicions.

“It wasn’t anything serious,” She explained, “We just had to meet with Duke Aegir, and…”

Even though the prince had never met the aforementioned noble, he had heard from enough people to know that the man wasn’t well-liked.

“I don’t understand how someone like him is Prime Minister. Or how someone like Ferdinand is even related to him.” She stated bluntly.

“I suppose just because someone is related to another, that doesn’t mean they are similar,” Dimitri said, “After all, Rodrigue and Felix are very different from one another.”

Byleth made a face, “I suppose that’s true…”

There was a loud bark from the prince’s side then. When the prince looked over, he saw that their hungry companion stray dog had made a return. Once more, the dog was looking at the two of them silently asking for food again.

The professor stared at the animal, “I suppose you want this?”

From her cloak’s pocket, she withdrew a few pieces of sauteed jerky. Immediately, the dog started wagging its tail at the sight of food.

Dimitri couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “I suppose so.”

She held out one of the pieces of jerky to the dog, who very quickly took it from her hand and chewed it down within seconds.

“You’d think that he’d never had food before…” Byleth ran her fingers behind the dog’s ears.

The prince did as well, “Well, considering that he continues to come to us, I suppose we should give him a name, yes?”

Byleth immediately replied, “Sandwich Stealer.”

Dimitri was rather taken aback, “W… Why is that?”

“He once tried to steal Byriel’s sandwich. Sandwich Stealer is an accurate description of him.”

It was so sudden and bluntly put, the prince immediately burst out laughing so much he lost his breath.

“What’s so funny?” She asked.

“Nothing,” He grinned at her, “Your sense of humor never ceases to impress me, professor. Though I think Sandwich Stealer is a bit long, perhaps something like Bandit would work just as well?”

She tilted her head a bit, “I suppose that Bandit works better than Sandwich Stealer…”

The dog let out another bark, walking up one of the steps and sitting between the two of them.

Byleth gave the dog another pat behind his ears, “Bandit it is then…”

For a moment, there were no words. Just them and Bandit. Dimitri had no idea if he had done anything to help the professor, but there was something calming about just being by her side.

“If it means anything, I believe Ferdinand will be taking the duke’s place as Prime Minister come to the end of the year…” He offered, “And I’m certain that he’ll be a great leader.”

She gave a half-hearted shrug as she pulled her hand away from Bandit, “I suppose so… but if he shows his face at the monastery before that day comes, I’ll finish what the Spider failed to do himself.”  
Dimitri flinched at the claim, unnerved at how certain his professor was about the threat.

“Spider? What Spider?” He asked.

She shook her head, “Nevermind, it’s nothing you need to be too worried over.”

Well, now that she had said it, he had no idea how he  _ couldn’t  _ be concerned. Though, again, it was an issue to be taken care of by Edelgard and Ferdinand, not him. 

The monastery bells suddenly rang out, and Byleth rose up and stretched out her arms, “We should go back now.”

Bandit let out a yelp, seemingly protesting against their leaving.

Dimitri gave the dog another pet on its head, “I agree, we shouldn’t keep the rest of them waiting.”

“Thank you for letting me talk a bit, Dimitri…” She suddenly muttered.

“What?” He turned to her, seeing that her gaze was to the ground.

“I… I guess it’s just nice to have someone to talk to.” She spoke the words so quietly that the prince almost didn’t hear her.

He straightened, letting Bandit run off back in the direction of the monastery, “O-Of course! You’re my professor, I… I’d do anything for you.”

She stared at him, eyes wide for a moment.

“Did I say something?” He asked.

Byleth shook her head, “N-No, we should get back to the others.”

He followed her back towards the academy, though he had to speed up his pace to keep up with her.


	30. Chapter 29: Honeycomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xL5pOLLDzrE

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Twenty-Nine ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Honeycomb ⋅ ✦

* * *

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

7/20

Blue Sea Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦  ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ There was a lingering sour taste in Byriel’s mouth that manifested after the return from Enbarr. _ One that seemed to follow him almost as much as Sothis did. Still, not one to detour too much from his work, he put as much time as he could devote himself to teaching the Golden Deer students as much as he was able to before the month ran out.

Everyone seemed to be progressing well by all counts; Lysithea stood out to him as his top student and was progressing nicely in both forms of magic, and he even managed to get his laziest student to improve at wielding an ax. He figured that, with luck, they would all be able to progress to more intermediate classes.

Including Claude, who took to riding wyverns naturally. Despite Byriel’s only source of guidance coming from an afternoon of getting nipped at and almost thrown off of the damn things. Wyverns were, predictably, harder to master flying compared to the steady and easy-tempered pegasuses. Still, it was his and Claude’s only option, so he pushed forward and ended the day with several bruises and some useful tips for the Golden Deer’s house leader.

Why only women could ride pegasuses was beyond him.

Time went a lot faster than expected then, and with less than a week left before the Goddess’s Rite, Byriel spent that Sunday evening with Byleth. He sat at her desk, grading his student’s homework, while his sister sat on the floor sorting through lectures.

However, they were not alone; apparently, his sister had befriended a certain dog that Byriel recognized as the creature who constantly tried to steal his food whenever it got the chance. Now, that same dog was laying across his sister’s bed and watching him with big brown eyes, likely asking for a taste of Byriel’s sandwich sitting on a plate away from the edge of his workspace.

“Can you please let the dog out?” Byriel asked, staring down the creature with suspicion.

“Bandit’s not hurting anyone,” Byleth stated, not looking up from her work, “And he likes being around me. If I let him out, he’ll just sit outside and cry.”

“He’s going to steal my sandwich the second I turn my back to him.” Byriel frowned.

“I gave him food earlier, it’ll be fine,” She held up a book to him, “You’re better at healing magic then I am, how should I go about improving Mercedes’s abilities?”

Byriel adjusted his glasses and quickly read over the pages, carefully making sure his gaze never left Sandwich-Stealer for too long.

“It’s not too hard, By,” He explained, “Healing magic works because of intent. You want someone to heal faster, so as long as you focus on that I’m sure Mercedes will be fine at it.”

Byleth scowled at the pages, “It all seems so complicated.”

“You could learn faith magic too if you put a little patience into it,” Byriel picked up his sandwich and ate a quick bite, “You might have a talent for it.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“You’ll never know unless you put the work into it.”

She looked thoughtful but then sighed, “It’s not like I have a lot of people to go to for help. Manuela is amazing, but she’s probably the only one who knows how and she’s usually only available for a little bit in a day.”

“I’m sure there are more capable people around the monastery…” Byriel mumbled through the bread and cabbage in his sandwich.

Byleth seemed thoughtful, considering the idea. Then she closed the book and gave Bandit a pat on his head.

“I’ll consider it. But for now, it’s late so we should get ready for bed.”

“I’m not tired,” Byriel stated.

She stood up and walked behind him. Then, before he could stop her, his sister closed the book in front of him in one swift motion.

“Time for bed.” She repeated.

He groaned in protest, eating what was left of his sandwich. While Byleth gathered up the plates from their previous meal, Byriel stretched out his arms and looked at the calendar; the following Friday was the day their mission was to take place.

However, just two days before that, there was a birthday marked on the calendar. Or, to be more precise…

“Claude’s birthday is on the twenty-fourth…”

Byleth looked over at the date, “Oh yeah, I almost forgot it was.”

Byriel bit the inside of his cheek, “I should do something for him, shouldn’t I?”

“You can buy him flowers? That’s what I’ll probably do.”

“I buy  _ everyone _ flowers, it’s not special.”

His sister made a face, “Tea?”

“I do that for  _ all _ my students.” He pointed out.

“You don’t need to be too stressed out over this, By.” She tried to reassure him.

Byriel frowned and stared at the stack of graded tests, “I want to do something for him. Something that’s more meaningful than a few minutes of tea or a bunch of flowers.”

His sister blinked a bit, “Oh wow… you’ve got it bad for him.”

He glowered at Byleth, “I do not.”

Byleth didn’t respond, looking a little more thoughtful. Then she tilted her head, “Okay, what if you have tea?”

“I already told you-”

“But it’s outside.”

He stared at her, confused, “Outside…?”

“Outside the monastery, I mean,” Byleth shrugged, “Just get some food and tea from the kitchen, wait until sunset when no one’s watching and then go outside Garreg Mach for tea?”

Byriel thought about it for a moment and then nodded, “While that is devious, I like it. But what if he says no?”

He didn’t think he’d be able to recover if that happened at this point. He had already told Claude the truth about his understanding of all his suggestive jokes, and even now it was harder for him to maintain eye contact with the noble.

Byleth patted his shoulder, “I have a good feeling that he’ll say yes, By. But you won’t know unless you put the work into it.”

He gave her a look at the sound of his own words thrown back at him. Though, she had a point. And, to his sister’s credit, she had been more than encouraging with all his previous endeavors.

Hopefully, he could repay the favor sometime, but there was one more obstacle in the way of this plan. An obstacle with a lance and a seething distrust of Claude von Riegan.

“What about dad?” Byriel asked.

Byleth gave her brother a tilted grin, “I have something in mind for dad. Just go out and have a fun time with your scoundrel.”

Byriel didn’t think he could cry, but if he could he probably would’ve cried then and there.

“I’ll repay you for this, By.” He returned the grin to her.

“I hope you do at some point,” She stated, “But don’t worry about that now.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

7/24

Blue Sea Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Claude

╚═════════ ∘◦ ☾ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ For Claude, his birthday was a detail often glossed over by others. _ Having so many half-siblings and others having much more important things to contend with, usually the only other person to pay it any sort of mind was Nader. He had once gifted Claude a bow and several arrows and had let the then child shoot at pheasants. The one he did manage to kill was served for dinner along with almond cakes and roasted pistachios.

Other than that, it wasn’t something that most people could be bothered to remember back home enough to have been made into a big deal. So in turn, he didn’t really bring it up or cared much about it. However, he was required to give them the date upon entering the academy, and it had been plastered onto every calendar throughout the school. Therefore, he had been given so many bundles of flowers by the staff that his room was probably going to smell nice for weeks to come.

“Claude, why didn’t you tell me your birthday was today?!” Hilda immediately whined at him while they waited for Byriel to begin their lecture.

“Well, it was all over the calendar!” He chuckled, “I figured everyone in the school knew it was today!”

The pink-haired noble pouted at him, “You could’ve at least said  _ something _ ! I could’ve gotten you a present.”

He gave Hilda a flirtatious grin, “But your presence alone is more valuable than any gift.”

She tilted her head a bit, “Is it worth more than the professor’s?”

Claude wheezed a strained laugh, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about!”  _ Shit, is it really that obvious? _

“Alright everyone, let’s get to work,” Byriel declared loudly to the room, “That means you, Hilda.”

She whined, “Aw, why can’t we just spend today doing nothing? It’s Claude’s birthday!”

“Still not an excuse.”

“Fine…” Hilda gave the noble a smile, “Well, happy birthday regardless. I’ll think of something to give you.”

With that, she took her seat and Claude set his focus back on his professor. However, as the noble watched the professor carry out his lecture as normal, he couldn’t help but notice that Byriel was looking at him more than he usually did. So much so Claude wondered if there was something stuck in his teeth from breakfast.

Either way, the intensity of his professor’s stare was enough to make Claude wonder, and fear, if he did something to insight Byriel’s quiet anger.

At the end of being taught about some battle he wasn’t alive to really care about, Byriel called Claude to the front to talk about his progress. But the professor seemed a bit more distracted; sifting through papers and adjusting his glasses absent-mindedly.

“I’ve done some research in flying,” Byriel explained, “I can give you a few more pointers if you want.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Claude leaned closer to his professor’s desk, “But for now, I’m a little more interested in what’s going on inside that head of yours, teach.”

Byriel looked up, “What?”

“Seems like something’s got you distracted.”

His professor went still, “Oh…”

“Everything alright…?” Claude pushed more for an answer.

Byriel was quiet, tapping his fingers against the desk and staring at the floor. The noble was confused; what had gotten the stony professor so anxious?

“Your birthday…” Byriel finally spoke up, his voice an octave quieter, “I wanted to invite you to tea…”

Claude shrugged, “I don’t mind. You do that for everyone here, so-”

“But-” The professor cut him off suddenly, “But not here… outside the monastery.”

The noble froze, “Wait, outside the monastery?”

Byriel nodded, “I thought it’d mean more to you…”

There was a long pause as the request hung in the air. The Golden Deer house leader thought over what was just asked of him, trying to process exactly what to say. Byriel was unpredictable, definitely. But this? This was surprising, even for him.

Maybe it was a joke? Some kind of elaborate test of wits? Though, the look on the professor’s face challenged any idea of this being anything but an honest request. But… why?

The former mercenary cleared his throat, “I understand if you have other things to do, so if the answer is no-”

“That’s not-!” Claude stopped to gather his thoughts, “I mean, that’s not it. I’m just surprised, that’s all. Never took you for the type to do something like this.”

“I usually don’t, that’s why. But if it’s for you? Well…” He turned his head down to the desk, “I-It’s different…”

Though it was harder to see the professor’s expression given the angle, Claude couldn’t help but think that Byriel’s face was a bit redder than usual. Dismissing any indications of this being some kind of joke. That, and he didn’t think that the professor was really capable of doing something like that.

Maybe it was because of the summer heat, but suddenly the room felt a lot warmer then it had just a moment ago along with the feeling like his heart was going to stop. But besides that, he had to admit he was a bit flattered by the idea.

“Do you have a plan for getting out of the monastery undetected?” He asked, unable to hold back a grin.

Byriel perked up, his eyes wide with surprise at the response, “I was thinking of waiting until evening classes were done, and when everyone else was headed to dinner…?”

Claude knew that if they were caught, they could both be in a world of trouble. Byriel especially if their plan failed. They were professor and student, so this wasn’t really ‘appropriate’ all things considered.

Then again… that’s what made the idea so inviting.

“Well, I’ll gladly accept your offer, By.” He smiled, feeling like he was about to burst into flames.

Byriel looked stunned at the response as if he were expecting the noble to laugh at the very idea of them sneaking out, but then the same look that he had when he had told Claude that he understood all of his jokes spread across his face.

“Then I’ll be at the greenhouse after evening classes are done. I’ll see you there?”

Claude nodded, “I mean, how could I say no to you, By? Should I bring flowers this time?”

Byriel smirked a bit, “I think that’s my job this time.”

The noble laughed, “Quite forward of you!”

“I can be forward when I want to be. I can’t always let you make the plans.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

As the final bells rang out through the monastery, Claude made his excuses to escape from his fellow classmates. Not a difficult task, seeing that everyone was on their way to dinner, and the noble was able to make his way towards the greenhouse.

The plants were lush around this time of year, their leaves vibrant and the flowers in full bloom. Byriel was already there, knelt down by one of the garden plots and staring at the snapdragons that were neatly lined up in blue and violet rows. He looked on in awe, his eyes alight when looking at them. It was a rare expression to see on the professor. Claude had seen Byriel smile a few times and even look surprised or amazed.

But he definitely had never seen him cry.

“Never took you as the type to stop and admire the flowers, Teach.” Claude smiled a bit as he said it.

“I’ve always liked snapdragons.”

“Is that so?”

Byriel shrugged, “Well, I wanted to see a real dragon when I was a kid. So I thought that snapdragons attracted dragons.”

The noble felt the urge to laugh at the idea. It was… actually a little cute thinking about a younger Byriel wanting to see a real dragon.

The professor rose to his feet, and Claude noticed that he had a large bag by his feet primarily used by the knights for carrying weapons, “I’m surprised you made it.”

“As I said, I wouldn’t miss it,” Claude held his hands behind his head casually, “So what’s your plan for us escaping the monastery undetected?”

Byriel tilted his head a bit, “We walk out the marketplace gates. I go first, you follow me a few minutes later and we’ll be free.”

The noble made a face, “Seems a little too easy. What if your dad catches us?”

Though Claude didn’t think Jeralt would actually kill him if he was caught within five feet of Byriel, he sure as hell didn’t want to risk it.

“Byleth told me she had a way to keeping him busy,” Byriel stated.

“She knows about this?” Claude raised an eyebrow, uneasy at the thought.

“She helped plan it.”

Without waiting for a response, Byriel hoisted the bag for transporting weapons over his shoulder and walked towards the exit of the greenhouse. He took a careful glimpse from around the door and nodded.

“We should leave now.”

Claude got closer, looking over the professor’s shoulder to see Jeralt sitting at the monastery’s dock by the lake. Professor Byleth and Alois sat next to him with fishing rods cast out into the water. Suddenly Alois burst out laughing at something, and even from their distance, Claude could hear Jeralt let out an annoyed groan.

The noble chuckled a bit, “A clever diversion.”

“Start following me when I’m out of sight.” Byriel quickly moved away from the house leader and began to walk at a casual pace towards the market. As expected of his professor, he remained composed all the way until he vanished around the corner.

Claude followed after waiting a few seconds, walking at a reasonably quick pace. To anyone else, he just looked like he had somewhere else to be. Though he did make sure to pick up his pace a bit when he was passing the lake.

“Anyone want to hear a joke about parchment?” Alois asked, loud enough for Claude to hear as he moved by.

“Not really,” Jeralt muttered.

“I don’t blame you, it’s pretty ‘tearable’.” Alois burst out laughing at the pun.

It took all of Claude’s willpower not to let out an annoyed sigh as Byriel’s father did at that moment. How Professor Byleth could stand it was a mystery in itself.

Within moments, the house leader rounded the stone path towards the marketplace and headed towards the gates. At this hour, most of the shops were busy reorganizing their wares and packing up to return back to town for the night. No one paid him any mind as he walked past them and out the gates. Not even the guards paid him any real mind as he walked down the path from the monastery and spotted Byriel waiting a good ways away for him.

“Alright then, Teach, we’re out.”

“See? It was easy.”

“Not bad on your part,” Claude smirked a bit, “Now where do we go?”

Byriel turned and began to walk down the road with determination, “This way.”

The Golden Deer house leader followed though he couldn’t help but look back over his shoulder every few minutes just to make sure they weren’t being followed.

They walked down the steep slopes, conversations between them were somewhat limited and awkward, and they didn’t even pass another person on their journey. Claude wondered how far Byriel was meaning to lead him; it couldn’t be a huge distance from Garreg Mach, but the sun was threatening overhead to set soon.

Eventually, the road looked more familiar, as they had taken this route to partake in the mock battle several months ago. Soon after he realized the road, the same open field dotted by trees every so often appeared.

“We’re here.” Byriel declared.

Confused, Claude gave him a look, “Here?”

“Why not? It’s quiet and far away from everyone else. No one is going to come down here at this hour,” Byriel turned to the noble, “Is it alright…?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” He walked closer to the professor’s side, “Though it doesn’t seem like a place you’d typically have tea at.”

“Well, it is a picnic. You drink tea at picnics, right?”

“Yeah, but I’ve never been to one. Seems like a hassle to bring hot tea to one anyway.”

Byriel tilted his head a bit, “Well, I already have that covered.”

Claude followed the professor as he walked onto the former battlefield, choosing a spot between several trees before he finally set the weapons bag down.

“Planning on dueling me, By?” He teased, though he hoped that wasn’t part of the trip as Byriel was significantly better at swordsmanship then he was.

“Not today.” He replied, going through the bag and setting down an iron kettle, waterskin, and bag on the ground.

Wondering what the professor had planned, Claude watched Byriel as he filled the kettle with water. He took off his gloves and then firmly held it in his hands, his palms began to radiate heat and Claude could hear the water boiling.

“Try not to set yourself on fire again ?” Claude warned, looking at Byriel with a level of concern.

“I’ve done this several times before,” Byriel stated rather bluntly.

“Without getting burned?”

“You don’t learn fire magic without getting burnt sometimes.”

After a few minutes, the professor set the kettle down. His palms were bright red but other than that he seemed fine and unburnt. Seems like he wasn’t lying when he said that he had done it before without getting a rebound.

Byriel looked up to Claude, “I didn’t know which tea was your favorite, so I bought a few.”

The noble snickered, “An interesting investment on your part. I prefer Almyran Pine Needles if you have it.”

As Byriel went through the weapon’s bag, Claude took a seat next to the former mercenary and watched him pull out a small glass jar with a stopper in it. The contents of which seemed mostly composed of pine needles, which he put generously into the kettle and let seep. Then he fished out two wooden cups that were slightly worn from likely years of use and offered to the noble.

“I would’ve brought nicer cups, but I didn’t want to risk breaking them. So I borrowed these from Byleth.”

“It’s fine,” Claude admitted, taking a sip from the cup, “Honestly this goes beyond what I thought you were going to do, By.”

The former mercenary squinted at him, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I guess I’ve never had anyone put this much effort into my birthday.” He admitted though he wasn’t sure why.

Byriel stared at him, “Well, it’s because you’re my friend. And friends do that kind of stuff.”

“Right, friends…” Claude echoed, turning his gaze to look at the mountains in the distance.

There was the sound of Byriel going through the bag again, so the Golden Deer house leader turned to see his professor carefully pull a woven basket that he had seen the kitchen used to hold cookies. Though instead of just cookies, there were also two pieces of cake dotted with bright red berries that Claude knew the kitchen kept well-guarded from prying hands. They were a bit deformed from the long journey but still smelled just as sweet.

“I can’t imagine that the kitchen staff just let you take those.” He pointed out.

Byriel put the basket in between them, “I helped clean the dining room for a few days, so they let me take two as thanks.”

Claude frowned, becoming more and more suspicious of his professor, “I thought that you weren’t allowed to entice me?” He asked, half-joking.

That got him a look from his professor, but he couldn’t tell what emotion it was; some sort mixture of maybe guilt and embarrassment? He had no idea.

“Well, I’m not your teacher out here…” Byriel muttered, taking a long drink of tea.

“I guess not.” Claude watched his professor’s movements; he seemed tense somehow.

“Linhardt mentioned a while ago that there were mysterious people in the monastery,” The professor spoke up, changing the subject, “You said you once saw someone walking around the academy at night, right?”

“I did,” He nodded, thinking back to the somewhat foggy memory of it, “I wouldn’t be surprised if this mysterious stranger had friends with them.”

Byriel frowned, staring into his cup as if it had the answers to this mystery, “Is security so bad that they keep coming back?”

Claude smiled a bit, “Y’know, there’s an old rumor about the monastery, By.”

“What rumor?” He stared at the noble, bright lapis-blue eyes wide with curiosity.

“Some people say that there’s an underworld beneath the monastery. A dark and sinister place filled with unsavory criminals and ruthless killers, and mysterious merchants that sell strange and cursed items.” He explained with a wide smile. Claude had overheard the rumor from a few guards once while he was eating, and while it seemed unbelievable he couldn’t help but be a little curious. After all, a place as old and strange as Garreg Mach had to have plenty of secrets within its walls.

Byriel blinked, thinking over what he had been told, “A dangerous underworld full of criminals…”

“Perhaps we’ll have to look for it sometime?” Claude raised an eyebrow.

“I would like to, actually. It interests me.”

The noble laughed, “Oh really? Aren’t you a little afraid?”

“Not at all,” Byriel shook his head, “There’s something... enticing about a mystery, it’s something that begs you to solve it.”

“Right…” He agreed, “Because if you could find it, it could change the world.”

Byriel bit into one of the cookies from the basket, “I wonder if something like that really exists in Fódlan.”

“I know it does, and I’m going to find it someday,” Claude declared, “But it’d be worth more if I found it with you, By.”

“Me?” He asked, brushing away crumbs from his cheeks with the back of his sleeve.

The noble stared at Byriel, “Well, you’re a mystery yourself. I want to know more about you.”

Byriel stared back, “I could say the same about you.”

Claude took a sip of tea, the air feeling a bit warmer then it did when they had gotten here, “I suppose we’ll just have to figure each other out, By.”

The professor looked to the trees around them, “I’m not that mysterious. I know there are things about me and my sister that our father and the archbishop won’t tell us, but I’d like to think that it wouldn’t change who we are.”

“I’m sure that you’re right about that,” He continued, “But there are things you haven’t told me about yourself. Things that I’d like to know.”

Byriel frowned, “Like…?”

“Well, I know you like snapdragons and reading, and that you’re very good at strategy,” Claude grinned, “And that you don’t like spiders.”

“Those aren’t very interesting secrets though,” Byriel stated.

“I think they are,” Claude shrugged, “As small as they are, it’s enough for me to get an idea of what you’re like.”

The former mercenary squinted at him, “Alright then… what small things should I know about you?”

The noble drained his cup of the remaining tea, “Other than Almyran Pine Needles being one of my preferred teas and that I like scheming and poetry, I suppose that I’ve always been thought of as an outsider. But in many ways, I’m just a normal person like everyone else. In the right environment, anyone could be seen as an outsider.”

“I don’t think of you as an outsider.” Byriel shrugged.

As simple as the statement was, they meant so much more than any other compliment he could’ve given Claude.

“Thanks,” He smiled at the former mercenary, “You know, we’re a lot more similar in that regard. I get the feeling you know what it’s like to be an outsider, By.”

Byriel stared at the noble and then he nodded, “More than you think.”

There was a silence between them after that, with them both slowly picking away at the slices of smuggled cake and cookies. They were pleasantly sweet, and all had been mostly devoured by the time the sun had started to set behind the mountains.

Byriel’s gaze was locked on the trees again, as Claude had noticed that his professor had been looking in the direction quite a bit during their time here.

“Something on your mind?” Claude asked.

Byriel pointed to the treeline, and following the direction he was gesturing at the noble realized that just a few yards away was one tree that looked to have hundreds of bees crawling and swarming around it.

The former mercenary looked to the noble, “Have you ever had honeycomb?”

He frowned, not liking where this was going, “I haven’t. I didn’t think that it was edible.”

Before he could even get through saying it, Byriel was already standing up and brushing grass off of his clothes.

“Wait right here and don’t move. It’s important you don’t.” Byriel stated, picking up the jar he had brought the tea leaves in and walking in the direction of the bee-infested tree.

Claude immediately got up and grabbed his professor by the wrist, “Are you insane?! You could get killed!”

Byriel just shrugged Claude off and continued walking, “Just trust me. Don’t move.”

“By-!” He shouted after his professor but was hesitant to run after him if the bees suddenly attacked. All he could do was watch on as Byriel approached the tree with seemingly no fear or concern for his own life.

The former mercenary walked right to the base of the tree, getting as close as he could before slowly reaching his ungloved hand right into a crack in the tree where the majority of the insects had swarmed around. Bees swarmed around him, crawling onto his arms and shoulders, even walking along the side of his jaw and mess of dark azure hair.

Claude waited, preparing to jump into action, anticipating Byriel to scream in pain or for the bees to swarm him and sting him to death. But then the former mercenary slowly pulled his arm back out of the tree, a chunk of golden honeycomb in his hand, and slowly placed the piece into the jar before walking back towards a very stunned Claude von Riegan.

There were still bees walking along Byriel’s shirt, but many simply flew away and retreated back to their hive. Leaving the professor unharmed.

“Here.” Byriel held the jar out to Claude, speaking casually as if nothing had happened.

Claude gaped at the professor, “H-How did you…?!”

“Practice mostly. But for some reason, bees don’t really sting me.” He shrugged.

The noble stared at him, both dumbfounded and impressed all at once, “And this is normal for you?”

Byriel gave the barest hint of a grin, “The first time I did it I thought my dad was going to have a heart attack.”

The house leader just shook his head, both relieved and amazed, “You are, by far, the strangest and most intriguing person I’ve ever met, Byriel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanitas: That Fried Green Tomatoes reference tho... >:^)


	31. Chapter 30: The Wraith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanitas: Bet y'all weren't expecting a bonus chapter :^)
> 
> Chapter music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=paDuue9Bgas

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Thirty ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ T̴̬̹̼̫̼̿̽h̷͖͚̣̪̅̌ȅ̷͇̖̪̹̣̺̐̓͂̌ ̸̢̛͚̔͊̔̇W̸̦̥͝r̷̲̆̉̅̀̇a̸̬̹̾i̶̫̮̘͇̰̐͒̍t̶̬̠̅̾͝ḩ̶̛̹͉̂͒̽͌̓ ⋅ ✦

* * *

Myson

╚═════════ ∘◦ 👁 ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Dagda was a quiet place. There wasn’t anything much beyond empty fields that stretched on for miles and neglected roads rarely walked upon by another person. _ Perhaps one might come across a small settlement or farm, but more often than not a person could go for weeks at a time never seeing another soul.

How easy could it be for a person to completely disappear in such a land, Myson wondered. For almost three months, he had wandered this strange and isolated land. Sometimes taking the appearance of a traveling mercenary, a lone farmer, or a lost merchant, but more often than not he was simply able to walk as he was. After all, who would really remember his face here?

It was more valuable to wear the features of someone who could easily vanish from the minds of others. So as he approached the small town named Adare, he decided to wear the guise of a warrior with no master to put a name to and walked down the rough roads to what appeared to be some kind of tavern. The weather was dreary, the sky a sinister grey and freezing rain had soaked through his cloak. A depressing atmosphere for a depressing town, but it meant no different to Myson; he had come all this way for one reason and only one reason.

The Agarthan warlock entered the tavern, seeking shelter from the pouring rain outside and the gloom that had settled over the ancient roads. It was lit by candlelight and was surprisingly crowded. People in traveling robes sat at tables and up at the bar, sipping their alcohol as they softly murmured among themselves, creating a hum of low conversation. It seemed like the place that shady folk would linger about to do their business, which was exactly the reason why Myson was there.

He scanned the worn wooden tables for who he was looking for and couldn’t help but grin when he noticed the backmost table being occupied by the person he was looking for. The table was lined with mercenaries, laughing, and talking to each other. They were seemingly celebrating, as the food and drink seemed more on the expensive side. All of them were gruff-looking, with battle-worn armor, weapons resting at their belts and backs, and scars lining their bodies as attested to their previous encounters with death. They laughed, spinning tales of their latest fight and boasting of their strengths in between long drinks of alcohol.

Myson watched for a while from the shadows as one-by-one, each of them left on their own accord. Wishing each other well and more or less stumbling out of the tavern. Eventually, only one remained. Sitting by himself in the darkest part of the room, occasionally taking a drink and surveying his surroundings as if he expected someone, or something, to leap out and attack him.

At that point, Myson approached the table with a casual grin, “Mind if I join you, Chilon?”

The man glanced up, a slight look of surprise on his features, “Hm, how curious. How is it you know that name…?”

Myson pulled back his hood slightly, along with the face he was wearing. Chilon nodded slightly, recognizing his old friend from the war.

“I never expected to meet you here. But it is good to see you, Myson.”

Myson reeled back in his disguise, “It is good to see you as well. But you are correct to never suspect me to come here, Thales asked me to find you.”

“Thales…” The barest hint of a smirk spread across the man’s face, “It must be important to him to send you to find me at the world’s end. Why not have a seat and tell me what it is?”

Myson did as such, taking the seat across from Chilon and able to get a much clearer look at him. He had only aged barely, despite the hundreds of years that had passed since they had last seen each other. Wrinkles had begun to set on his face, his features still strong. It was hard to determine his eye color, as the one eye he had was usually downcast and hidden by his long eyelashes. His other eye, however, was gone. It was covered by an eyepatch but the large scar was still there as it traveled down to the corner of his mouth.

But the most noticeable thing about him was his scarlet hair, now a more faded rust color with streaks of grey and white within it.

“Thales has requested that you come back to Fódlan. To take back the position you held during the war and aid us in our new venture to take back what once was ours.”

Chilon tapped a gloved finger against the table, “A tempting offer, but I must decline.”

“Why is that?” Myson asked.

The older Agarthan looked grim, “Simply put, it seems rather dull to fight such a war against the humans. I’ve fought many of them in my time walking this earth, to the point where it’s become boring. I see no reason to fight a war to hunt more of the same prey.”

Myson frowned, not surprised to hear the response, “I can’t imagine that you are content with your position now.”

“It’s a dull task,” Chilon nodded, “But life as a mercenary keeps one’s skills sharpened, no matter how repetitive the targets become. I apologize for the disappointment, but you will have to return to Thales without me.”

Well, that was always an option. But Myson had another thing to persuade the old man. Something that he knew would gain the attention of the Wraith.

“Before you become set on that answer,” Myson leaned a little closer to the table, “I have something to share with you. Something you’ll be very interested in hearing.”

Chilon raised an eyebrow, “Oh? Pray tell me what it is.”

Myson grinned, “It’s in regards to the one that left that scar on your face.”

Though the Wraith’s face remained stoic, there was a flare of something close to anger in his one bronze eye, “Go on.”

“He’s alive. Hiding from the world, but alive nonetheless.”

“How do you know this?”

“It’s taken a century of searching, but there are enough whispers in the air for us to believe that he still walks in Fódlan.” The smile on his face widened.

Chilon’s grip on his iron cast mug was so strong it dented the metal, “...Cichol still lives?”

“He does,” Myson nodded, “Along with one of his abhorrent descendants.”

Slowly, a cold grin spread across the Wraith’s face, “Here I thought that there were no more Nabateans. All exterminated bones beneath my feet and dust in the wind. To think that there were more… And one of them is the one I never got to beat.”

“Is that enough to convince you to return?” Myson asked.

The older Agarthan simply placed a few gold coins on the table, paying for his drink, “It’s more than enough. We leave for Fódlan immediately.”

“It’ll be a long journey on foot.” Myson mused, standing up.

“Nonsense, I will not make an old war companion walk after coming all this way,” Chilon picked up a large weapon and placed it over his shoulder, “Bucephalus will make the journey much easier.”

The Agarthan frowned, “That hellish beast is still alive?”

“He is,” Chilon smiled, “Afraid he’ll bite?”

“If I recall correctly, he has many times before.”

The two exited the tavern, back into the cold and dreary weather. Walking a ways down the road, to where they stood on the city limits, the Wraith withdrew a dark metal whistle from around his neck and blew into it. There was no sound that came from it, at least not one that Myson could hear.

From far off in the distance, there came a screech. Loud and guttural, one that seemed to shake the very air itself, followed by the loud flap of wings and the ground trembling as a large wyvern landed unceremoniously before them.

Bucephalus was just as hideous as Myson had remembered him to be; a huge thing, larger than a wyvern would normally grow to be, and one that stood on its back legs as if it were trying to mimic human gestures. Black, leathery skin covered the beast and his jaw was lined with razor-sharp teeth that could tear through flesh and bones easily. Bucephalus growled at Myson, likely viewing the Agarthan as a meal rather than an ally, but restrained itself. Waiting for its master to give it a signal to strike.

Chilon easily climbed up the wyvern’s back and sat in its saddle, adjusting the weapon on his back and waiting for Myson to, cautiously, climb behind him.

“No need to worry,” The Wraith darkly chuckled, “He’ll only eat you if I order him to.”

Myson scoffed, “Your sense of humor hasn’t changed, it seems.”

“Perhaps not,” The Wraith had a smile on his face, “But this is the first time in a very long time I’ve felt the thrill of the hunt.”

His hands went to his neck, pulling a long string from beneath his shirt lined with teeth. They were all sharp canines, but they didn’t seem to belong to any normal animal.

“For centuries, I’ve dreamt of the day I would face Cichol on the battlefield again,” He murmured, eyeing the necklace with pride, “The prey that got away, the ultimate trophy, the goddess’s firstborn son.”

Myson smirked.

“I wonder,” the Wraith mused, “If he still remembers and dreams of our last battle?”

The other Agarthan laughed, “And it seems your paths will cross again soon.”

“... Yes,” Chilon put the necklace away, rain soaking his hair, reminding him of that fateful battle, “... The day where I spill his blood on the ground and claim my victory is approaching. The hunt begins.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanitas: Dear readers, one of the characters introduced in this chapter has incredibly bigoted views on the Nabataeans. While his character was created a long time ago, currently in the US tensions are rising due to systematic racism. We didn't mean for this to line up but please be aware of his Nazi-like views towards an entire race of people and if this upsets you it is alright to refrain from reading
> 
> Birddi: Please also know that Chillon's views in no way reflects our own views on race. We stand with Black Lives Matter and believe in equality for all people.
> 
> Vanitas: We don't mean this to sound weird, but it felt important to address this before the story continued forward


	32. Chapter 31: Mockingbird

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Thirty-One ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Mockingbird ⋅ ✦

* * *

╔═════════ ∘◦ ☪ ◦∘ ═════════╗

7/26

Blue Sea Moon

Imperial Year 1180

Seteth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♗ ◦∘ ═════════╝

For whatever reason, Seteth didn’t sleep at all the night before the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth.

Perhaps it was the fact he had been nervous because of the supposed assassination note the Archbishop had received a month ago. Or perhaps it was his nightmares of the past, the sounds of war still raging on in his head when he closed his eyes. Regardless, he was tired and anxious as the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth had finally arrived. The tension of the Knights of Seiros had increased every passing day, as they had all been preparing for this showdown for the past month.

As the dawn grew brighter, Seteth did his best to pull himself together and mentally prepare for the day that was to come. He had a sinking feeling that it would be a long one, and it would be better to face it head-on and to ensure that the archbishop was close in case of any danger.

However, as he began to ascend the stairs to the topmost floor of the monastery’s main building, Rhea met him in the middle going down. She smiled at him as if it were any normal day.

“Oh, Seteth, I am glad to see you. Did you rest well?”

“Admittedly, it was hard to sleep last night considering that today is the day someone might attempt to take your life.”

Her smile did not waiver, “There should be nothing to fear, Seteth. So long as the professors are there.”

Seteth thought of the professors and their affinity for fire and recklessness, frowning a bit.

He continued, “Besides the professors, I intend on staying by your side and keeping you safe, Rhea.”

“I thank you for it,” she clasped her hands together, “Which is why I have something to ask of you. Something that must be kept between the two of us.”

Immediately, Seteth was suspicious. Despite knowing her for centuries, Rhea had a tendency to keep certain pieces of information close to her chest. Whether it was that she attempted to revive their mother through a dark blood ritual, that she accidentally had made Jeralt immortal, or that she knew what had happened to the twin professors and didn’t want to talk about it, Rhea was very good at keeping secrets and keeping him out of the loop.

“Of course,” He stated, “What is it?”

“How familiar are you with the underground of Garreg Mach?” She asked.

He furrowed his brow, “Decently familiar, though I make it a habit to not go to Abyss often. As long as they don’t interfere with our business, I do not interfere with theirs.”

She nodded, “Then you are familiar with its abundance of passageways?”

“Indeed.”

Rhea stared at the advisor, “Many individuals have found their way into Garreg Mach by the use of Abyss. Though there are individuals that watch over the underground with diligent eyes, there is one, in particular, I am intent on seeing. One that I trust will keep Abyss secure from anyone who tries to enter it as a means of passing Alois and the professors, and one that I would like you to become familiar with.”

Seteth sighed, not surprised Rhea had kept such crucial information from him, “Very well. I shall go with you to Abyss.”

“Excellent,” she smiled softly, “I thank you for this, Seteth.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

The journey to Abyss was a dangerous one, even for those already familiar with its various routes and detours. Seteth felt a sense that, at any moment, either he or Rhea would accidentally set off some sort of trap and wind up killing them both. That, or some sort of stranger with ill-intent would round a corner and he’d be forced to fight unarmed.

As Seteth followed the archbishop, they passed through one winding path after another. Not a single soul crossed their way, the halls silent other than the sound of their steps. How many people had died trying to navigate this labyrinth, he wondered.

Eventually, the path widened out into an impressively large subterranean area. The road was lined with worn stone, much like the ground above in the church, a testament that many people had walked this path before. The way was lined with what he guessed were makeshift storefronts and shelters, though it mostly seemed as though the residents of such were closing things down for the day.

What individuals weren’t doing as such stared at Seteth and the archbishop as they passed, quiet shock on their faces at the sight of them.

“This way,” Rhea whispered, turning to walk down a short series of stairs. 

He followed quickly, and as they rounded one final corner, their journey finally ended before a room with two large banners displaying a snarling wolf hanging on the wall.

Seteth narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar banner, “What is this?”

“This is the Ashen Wolf House. Garreg Mach’s fourth house.”

Frankly, he felt rather stupid when he asked, “There’s a fourth one?”

“I had to keep its existence a secret. Even from you, Seteth.” She apologized, looking somewhat guilty.

He was dumbfounded, “How could you keep something like this from me?”

Before Rhea could respond, a voice that was rather familiar spoke out, “Oh, good morning, Seteth, Archbishop. I hadn’t expected two guests, but welcome.”

The advisor turned to the voice and was once again baffled. Standing before him and Rhea was a boy who had once been a part of the academy. He wasn’t exactly tall, in fact, he was several inches shorter than Seteth, yet despite that, he still had an intimidating aura. His heather eyes were piercing, matching his medium length hair, and the smirk on his face was one that the last time Seteth had seen was when he had expelled him from the Officer’s Academy.

“Yuri Leclerc…?!”

“I’m flattered you remember me,” the former student chuckled.

The advisor turned to Rhea, “Why is he here?”

The archbishop’s face remained calm, “I asked him to stay after he was expelled.”

“Wh-?!” Seteth was baffled. Yuri Leclerc had been expelled more than two years ago.

“Lady Rhea approached me saying she had a position for me here at the monastery. One that best suited my… how you say, unique set of skills.” The former student still maintained a smirk as he explained.

Seteth turned to the archbishop sharply, “How could you have kept this from me?”

“It was necessary.” She stated it, attempting to dismiss the conversation quickly.

“Rhea, I am your advisor!” He narrowed his gaze at her, “I would’ve assumed you’d trust me with such crucial information! Especially in regards to something like this!”

The archbishop clasped her hands together, averting her gaze from Seteth’s, “As the archbishop of Garreg Mach, there are things that I cannot allow anyone to know. Not even you.”

“Rhea-”

“Please, understand this; it is not that I don’t trust you with many things,” She cut through his words swiftly, “There is a reason I asked you to return as my advisor. But there are matters that even you cannot be privy to, for yours and Flayn’s sake.”

Seteth clenched his fists tightly, the words feeling more like an insult than reassurance. What could she have possibly done that made it necessary to lie to him to this extent?

“Regardless, I asked you to come with me to Abyss to discuss matters of security.” Rhea turned back to the former student.

He nodded, “As you asked, Lady Rhea, I have some of my best watching the entrances and exits. No one is getting in or out of Abyss unnoticed, and anyone who tries isn’t likely to get very far.”

“How are you so sure no one will?” Seteth crossed his arms, eyeing the former student with doubt, “Surely, Alois could send more guards to patrol the entrances to Abyss? Can we be sure that you can keep out anyone who tries to enter on your own?”

“Well, you certainly haven’t changed in the last two years, Seteth,” Yuri chuckled, a sound like a mockingbird's song, “But rest assured; it would be suicide to try and sneak past me.”

The advisor felt a cold chill go down his spine at the implication. Though, recalling back to Yuri Leclerc’s rather sparse records, the young man was one of the Blue Lion House’s top students. Both in terms of grades and in practice.

“That is all I needed to hear,” The archbishop nodded, “I thank you, Yuri Leclerc. You will be rewarded for your efforts this day.”

“That’s good to hear,” the boy smiled, seeming pleased.

Seteth took a deep breath and took Rhea aside, allowing Yuri to walk off to do whatever. He then looked at the archbishop, his expression stern.

“Is there anything else you’re hiding from me, Rhea?”

Rhea sighed slightly, “Seteth… In due time, I will tell you everything. For now, don’t be too worried.”

And without another word, the archbishop made her way out of Abyss with quick grace back to the surface. Her advisor shook his head, already knowing the answer. Rhea would most likely continue to be secretive and he couldn’t do much about it. It was not like he could interrogate her, he doubt he would get much no matter what he did. Frustrated, he straightened himself up and began to leave Abyss, thinking to himself.

Not paying much attention, he almost ran into someone. The boy yelped and jumped back, his golden cat eyes flashing in the dim light.

Seteth looked at him, “Ah apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you-.”

The boy let out a short cry of fear, jumping back from the advisor as if he were trying to avoid being burned. He muttered something too quickly and quietly for Seteth to understand, then practically sprinted in the other direction.

He blinked, a little confused. He wondered if he looked like a monster in the darkness, but knew he couldn’t think about it too terribly much. He had things to do, after all. Gathering his thoughts, he headed back to the light of the monastery above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lady Vanitas: Sorry for the short chapter and not uploading for a few weeks! We've been super busy and our irl lives has been crazy. We have a big boy coming up next week, so I hope it was worth the wait!


	33. Chapter 32: The Sword of the Creator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potential Trigger Warning: Cinnamon roll getting the shit kicked out of him

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Thirty-Two ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ The Sword of the Creator ⋅ ✦

* * *

Byleth

╚═════════ ∘◦ ❂ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Part of Byleth was a bit annoyed at her brother for being so secretive over what had happened between him and the Golden Deer House leader. _

She had assumed that, given her spending hours fishing with their father and Alois, he’d at least share a little bit of what happened. But he had been annoyingly sparse with details. Well, other than him mentioning how he impressed the leader with his unnatural abilities of charming bees into giving him honey.

That part, he did mention quite a bit.

It was a trick that, no matter how many times she watched him do it, she could never replicate without getting stung a few times. How Byriel managed to steal honey from bees was a mystery she doubted would ever be solved and was a talent that she envied a little.

But regardless of bees and whatever else Byriel did with Claude that day, it didn’t matter. The Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth was upon them, and after watching the sun rise over the mountains and dragging her very exhausted brother from bed, they stood at the steps of the cathedral. Watching the gates rise before them and waiting for their respective students to join them.

“This sucks.” Byriel stated through a yawn.

“When it’s all over, you can go back to bed.” Byleth offered.

Her brother frowned, looking as if he were about to fall asleep standing there. So, in an attempt to get him to stay awake, she tried to think of something to get him talking.

“So,” She crossed her arms a bit, “Did anything happen between you and Claude? You came back pretty late.”

Byriel shrugged, “Not really. We had tea and honeycomb, and that’s pretty much all that happened.”

“Is it?” She pressed a little more.

He squinted at her, “It is. Nothing else happened. Why do you ask…?”

“Just curious.” Byleth shrugged, turning her attention back to the cathedral.

Byriel made a face, “Do you not believe me?”

“I do. But given that I distracted dad for a few hours and endured a lot of Alois’s terrible jokes, I would’ve thought that you two would’ve done something more interesting.”

“I’m a little insulted that you don’t think getting honey out of a beehive isn’t interesting.”

“That’s not it…” She sighed, wondering if he was intentionally avoiding the question again or if he was really that clueless.

Likely he was avoiding the question, as usual, though with the tone of his voice and the slight annoyance on his face that reminded her of Sothis. Then again, a lot of his characteristics were like Sothis’s; sleepy constantly, a little childish, but also somewhat mysterious.

“Hey, Teach!”

They both turned to see Claude and Hilda walk their way. Surprisingly, the very quiet Marianne was following them as well, staying particularly close to Byriel’s pink-haired student.

Byriel straightened, perking up a bit at the sight of the Golden Deer House Leader, “Claude, glad to see you here.”

_ He must have it bad for this guy… _ Though Byleth didn’t say that out loud.

“The Rite of Rebirth is finally underway,” Claude grinned a bit, “Time to see if our hunch was right.”

Hilda sighed, “Ugh, I hope it’s not. Then we wouldn’t have to fight anyone.”

“Our hunch _is_ right,” Byriel stated bluntly.

“Dear Goddess…” Marianne prayed so softly that Byleth almost missed her words completely, “Please protect us…”

“She will.” Byriel nodded to the melancholy student.

“So will I!” Hilda whined, seemingly insulted at the very notion of being left out of that conversation, her laziness seemingly forgotten.

“Well, we need to wait for the others first.” Byleth reminded the group.

Claude chuckled, “You can consider this a head start! Because right or wrong, the clock is ticking.”

“That may be the case, but it would be better if we went together.” Edelgard’s voice came from the side, chastising Claude for the very notion.

The Black Eagle House leader, along with Hubert and Bernadetta, joined the group looking determined. Though, Bernadetta looked more anxious then determined. Close behind were Byleth’s own house led by Dimitri, Dedue, and Ingrid.

“Ah, wouldn’t dream of going in without you, your highnesses” Claude gave her a wink.

Dimitri frowned, looking doubtful. Then he turned to Byleth, “The Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth is finally here. Let’s move ahead with our plan.”

She nodded, “Of course.”

Hubert turned to Edelgard, keeping his voice low, “Are we going to move forward with our plan?”

She nodded, “I believe so.”

The Golden Deer House leader looked to Byriel, “Did you think about what I asked you a few days ago?”

Byleth gave her brother a questioning look. He shifted his stance a bit, “It seems odd to target the archbishop, isn’t it?”

“A little…?” Byleth shrugged.

“What’s this all about?” Dimitri asked, looking hurt that he had not been included in whatever plan the Golden Deer house leader was concocting.

“I think it is,” Claude tilted his head, continuing forward, “I mean, it’s pretty suspicious that Lonato was carrying that letter at all. It seems a little too convenient.”

“I would agree with that,” Edelgard crossed her arms, “But my question is why send a letter at all and not keep an assassination quiet?”

Byleth shrugged, unsure where this plan was going.

Dimitri looked thoughtful, “Now that you mention it, it is rather suspicious.”

Ingrid narrowed her eyes, “I would agree with that, but what other reason could there be to send a letter at all?”

“It could be another attack by that Spider fool,” Hubert glared at the very idea of running into the mad wire-wielding assassin again, “Ferdinand mentioned a calling card being sent to the Prime Minister, so this one doesn’t seem like the quiet type. Sending a letter to warn the church ahead of time seems on par for him.”

“I doubt it’s him,” Claude shook his head, “He seems too devoted to the Goddess to even make the church a target. I mean, he went after the Prime Minister in the name of the Goddess.”

“Spider?” The prince asked, “What spider?”

“Nothing you need to be too worried about.” Byriel dismissed the name quickly, in an attempt to avoid any more questions.

Dimitri looked to Byleth, though she hesitated to fill in the gaps right then and there. “Later, I promise.”

He nodded, “Alright, but if their target is not the archbishop, then what is their goal?”

“We don’t know,” The Golden Deer house leader shrugged, but the smirk on his face suggested that he already had an idea, “I suppose things could go either way.”

Bernadetta shivered, “Oh, I don’t like those odds at all…”

Hubert looked to the smaller student, “All that matters is how our enemy makes their move, not how you feel about the plan.”

“Seems that the best we can do is keep a close watch,” Edelgard looked to Byleth, “Tell me, do the Blue Lions have a plan?”

Byleth nodded, “It would be best to split up everyone into smaller groups and patrol the cathedral.”

“I thought that too…” Byriel scrunched his nose a bit, “But will there be enough of us to cover every inch of the monastery?”

“If we focus more of our efforts on the cathedral and Goddess Tower, surely that would dissuade any attempts of an attack,” Dimitri offered, “Regardless of the archbishop being the center of this, it would be best not to leave her unguarded.”

Edelgard shook her head, “I would disagree. The real target is likely not the archbishop and putting all our efforts towards guarding her could be what they want. It would be smarter to watch the exits and entrances to the monastery. Block off any means of escape.”

The prince looked to Edelgard, “They could already be within the walls.”

“Perhaps, but it would be better to keep their escape limited.” She countered.

Ingrid went to Dimitri’s side, “We have no idea what their means of escape could be. They could have a completely different plan.”

“I believe Lady Edelgard is correct in her thinking,” Hubert went to the princess’s side, giving a poisonous look at the other class.

“There’s enough of us to do both…!” Byleth cut in, attempting to avoid an argument.

Byriel slammed a fist into his open palm, seemingly coming up with something and snuffing out any further discussions.

“We keep the groups small and hidden,” He stated, “Some will patrol the outside and some inside, but some will keep to the shadows and watch for anyone suspicious.”

The other two lords were quiet as Claude chuckled.

“I’m all for that,” He gave a wink to Byriel, “Sharp as usual, Teach.”

Byriel turned his face away, his expression somewhat flustered for the briefest second.

“I have no issues with this idea,” Edelgard looked to Dimitri, “And you?”

The prince nodded to Byleth, “So long as the Professor approves, then I will go along with it.”

She internally sighed, grateful for her brother and his idea, “Yes.”

“Leave it to me,” Dedue stated bluntly, “I will follow wherever His Highness leads.”

“As will I.” Ingrid smiled a bit.

“It’s settled then.” Claude straightened.

As they came to the agreement, Seteth and Flayn approached their group. The advisor’s face was stern, as usual, though there were some hints of frustration that weren’t usually there. Though Byleth assumed, given what today was, there was a lot of pressure put upon his and Rhea’s shoulders.

“You seem a mite too relaxed for my liking,” Seteth scolded a bit, “The Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth is about to begin. While we are in the Goddess Tower, we are relying on all of you to secure the locations that are lacking in defense.”

“Of course.” Dimitri nodded sternly.

“We have a plan,” Byriel stated, confident in their strategy.

“Good.” Seteth nodded, the words seemingly giving him a bit of relief.

Flayn smiled sweetly, looking to the twins, “May I let you in on something, Professors? My brother can be a bit… callous.”

The two stared at the smaller girl.

She giggled a bit, “He told me that he was concerned about you, and hinted that perhaps you would be better off patrolling a coffin!”

A light wave of laughter went through a few of the students.

Seteth gave the girl a look, his green eyes wide with shock at her telling such information, “That was said in jest, Flayn! And in confidence… ”

There was a warning edge in the last part that caused another, slightly louder wave of laughter to go through the students again.

Byriel huffed a small puff of air as a laugh, and Byleth held back a grin. It was nice that the advisor was worried about them after all. As cold as he could be, Flayn was one to bring out a more lively and kinder side to him.

Seteth cleared his throat, “Please, just remain by my side and do not cause any more trouble.”

Flayn smiled, proud of her accomplishment.

The advisor turned sharply back to the twins, “As professors, you would do well to remember that it is your duty to guide the students down the path of righteousness.”

“Please, excuse us, everyone,” Flayn addressed the group, “We shall see you again after the ceremony has concluded!”

With that, Flayn quickly bowed and she and her brother left the group of students behind. Hopefully, confident in their capabilities.

“Seteth is  _ way _ too overprotective,” Hilda frowned, “He reminds me of my brother.”

“A coffin… how fascinating.” There was a slight smirk on Hubert’s face as he echoed the words.

Dedue looked to Byleth, “It’s time.”

She nodded, “Right, we should get things underway.”

“Yes,” Byriel looked to the Golden Deer students, “We’ll split everyone up accordingly and get ready.”

Very quickly, the classes were divided up. With there being twenty-four altogether, it was better to keep the students with their respected houses to avoid confusion. In the end, Byleth remained by Dimitri’s side, as well as with a very unhappy Felix, while her brother went off with Claude and Hilda.

The three of them stood closest to the entrance to the cathedral, watching the worshippers and other monastery residents enter and take their seats. The room had a peaceful atmosphere to it, almost making someone forget what was supposed to transpire.

“Why am I even here?” The swordsman grumbled.

“It ended up that way, I suppose.” Byleth watched the crowd carefully.

Dimitri was smiling, “I don’t mind standing guard with you both, honestly.”

Felix huffed, annoyed, “I don’t make a habit of talking to beasts.”

The prince seemed unphased, though his eyes briefly flashed hurt. Just what had happened between these two to make Felix act so harshly towards Dimitri?

As the sermons began, the air around the three of them remained somewhat tense. Felix refused to even look in the direction of the prince and professor. The mood of the cathedral was somber, peaceful as those attending wordlessly prayed for the Goddess.

Though Jeralt was never one for huge celebrations, around this time of the year they would at least settle for a nicer dinner at an inn. She had no idea that it was because of the Goddess’s Rite and sighed a little thinking that their father had kept this much from them.

“Professor?” Dimitri piped up, watching her, “You seem deep in thought.”

She focused to attention, “Oh… it’s nothing in particular. Just coming up with a plan in case something happens.”

“I have full confidence in your strategy, Professor. You have quite a talent for it.”

She shook her head, “Byriel is the tactical genius, not me.”

“I would disagree full-heartedly, we were able to defeat the bandits at the Red Canyon as well as Lonato with your planning.” He had that same sweet smile on his face as he said it.

Byleth tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, suddenly feeling self-conscious as her face felt like it was burning, “Th-That’s… that’s very kind of you to say.”

He chuckled softly.

Felix let out a harsh scoff, evident that he had not been completely tuning them out, “Just hearing you speak makes me want to retch.”

Dimitri looked over to the swordsman, “Heh, with that mouth of yours, you grow more like your brother every day.”

Surely, it had been meant to be a compliment to attempt to lighten the mood. Instead, Felix glared at Dimitri with an anger Byleth had no idea he had.

“Shut up. And stop walking around on your hind legs, you’re not fooling me.”

Dimitri looked hurt, “I cannot fathom why you seem to hate me so.”

“Because I know what you really are,” Felix snapped, “A beast craving blood.”

“Both of you, that’s enough,” Byleth lectured, trying to keep her voice down so as to not disturb the peace of the cathedral, “If you have grievances with each other, wait to resolve them when the day is over.”

Both students were silent, but before anyone could speak further one of the knights approached the three of them.

“Professor, have you seen Alois?” He asked.

Dimitri turned to them, “Is something wrong?”

The knight straightened, “I was sent by the group patrolling the south of the monastery, we just apprehended a suspicious individual!”

“Who is it?” Byleth asked.

“We don’t know, but they were carrying a weapon and attempted to run when we asked them to explain themselves.”

Dimitri looked serious, “If that is the case, I will find Alois. Stay here with them, Professor.”

The prince went off, walking quickly past the benches to reach the head knight on the other side. However, Byleth couldn’t help but wrack her thoughts a bit; would this mysterious attacker be this sloppy in execution? Everyone in the monastery and Officer’s Academy carried weapons, was it really that suspicious? Though given the threat, it did make sense. However, Byleth couldn’t be certain.

Felix frowned, “Is there anything else you can tell us about this intruder?”

The knight locked eyes with the student, “Unfortunately, that’s all I am able to tell you, Felix.”

The student narrowed his eyes at the knight, who stared back for an uncomfortably long time and only broke away as Alois came running up to them looking ready for whatever fight was waiting for him.

“I came as soon as I could!” He exclaimed, Dimitri running up behind him, “Which way is this intruder?!”

The knight frowned, almost glaring at the knight captain before they nodded and turned to the bridge, “This way! Quickly!”

Alois gave chase, yelling at several other knights to follow him. But before Dimitri could also run after them, Byleth quickly reached for him and grabbed him by his sleeve.

“Professor? Shouldn’t we go after him?” He asked, looking confused.

Byleth’s hand trembled a little, debating on whether or not to let him go, “I don’t like this… I have a bad feeling.”

Felix gave her a look, “How so?”

She frowned, “I… I was thinking over what Byriel and Claude said. About what’s important to the church.”

Dimitri blinked, focusing his attention more on her, “Did you realize something?”

Byleth met his icy-blue eyes, “What if the goal was never the archbishop in the first place, and the real target is something that we never expected?”

The two students were silent, realization on their faces. But it was all she could think that made sense; if you are going to sneak up on an enemy, then use a distraction to lure away their attention.

“So what do you suggest we do?” Felix asked.

“Gather the rest of the Blue Lions,” She instructed, “And tell them to come back here.”

There was some hesitation, but Felix went off. Dimitri, on the other hand, smiled at her with a sort of admiration.

“Is there anything you wish for me to do?”

She realized she was still gripping his sleeve and quickly let him go, “Y-Yes, I need you to help me get the drop on someone.”

He nodded and quickly followed her. Byriel and Claude had mentioned hiding places close to the mausoleum, but they weren’t the only ones who were good at being undetected. Finding a shadowy corner close to the statues of the four saints, the two of them waited out of sight of everyone but the saints.

Byleth carefully watched the crowd, Dimitri standing behind her close enough that she felt his own warmth. She tried her best to ignore it, but it would’ve been easier to perhaps fight with her eyes closed.

Still… regardless of the closeness, it was nice to have someone to back her up. She hadn’t ever had anyone that was her family do that for her.

“Professor,” Dimitri spoke quietly, his breath so close to her ear that she wanted to shutter, “Look there.”

She did, spotting the barest glimpses of someone rounding the corner to the direction of the Holy Mausoleum.

“Could they be after the Goddess’s body?” He asked.

“That could be it.” Byleth tensed, “Let’s corner them, stay close.”

He smiled, looking determined, “Let’s go.”

They quietly passed behind the pipe organs of the cathedral, Byleth hoping that they weren’t too late. Within moments, they were rounding the corner and opening the unlocked doors to the mausoleum.

At that moment too, the Blue Lion students had joined them in their designated meeting spot. All of them were confused, but ready for a fight. The doors were open within moments, and they quickly ran down the steps to the tomb below.

Immediately, Byleth was hit with a wave of hot, musty air. She resisted the urge to cough, squinting against the darkness barely illuminated by the occasional torch.

“It’s really creepy down here…” Annette stood close to Byleth, eyes darting around the passageway.

“It can’t be too much further,” Dedue stated, trying to reassure his fellow student.

As they went further down, there was a light that came from the foot of the steps. The Blue Lion students quickly ran the rest of the way and fanned out, drawing their weapons.

The mausoleum was a large, almost cavern-like room with grand columns holding up the high-arched ceiling. It was well-lit, likely due to the Goddess’s Rite, and the torches around the mausoleum illuminated the caskets and ground enough to see properly. Scattered around, all looking towards the stairs with a mix of shock and anger, were several intruders adorned in white robes.

“It is as we suspected, the enemy is within.” Dimitri withdrew his spear.

At the furthest end of the room, a masked mage turned sharply towards the students. From what Byleth could guess, the mage was messing with what appeared to be a large casket.

“Those Central Church dastards have spotted us!” The mage cried, “Buy me some time while I open the seal!”

“We’re on it!” An archer declared, readying an arrow in their bow.

The Blue Lion students straightened up quickly, all readying their weapons.

“The enemy is after the casket of Saint Seiros. Do they intend to steal her bones?” Dimitri wondered aloud, “We must defeat those enemies before they open the casket.”

Byleth nodded, turning to the students with a set look, “Alright, we go around. Half on the left, half on the right. Those of you on the right, be careful and watch each other’s backs.”

Ingrid nodded, “Yes, Professor.”

She went quickly, Dedue, Ashe, and Annette following her while the rest stayed by the former mercenary’s side.

“What’s the plan, Teach?” Sylvain asked, smiling at her.

“Move quickly and carefully.” She withdrew her sword, taking the lead with Dimitri behind her.

As they moved forward, the intruders attempted to rush them. Magic flew through the air as well as arrows, slamming against columns and skidding across the ground. Felix and Sylvain had few issues, easily dispatching whatever enemies came their way. From what Byleth could also see, Dedue led the front with Ashe and Ingrid careful to even the odds. A quick glimpse to the side and Byleth saw Ingrid run a spear through an enemy while Dedue took down a mage next to her.

She wished that the two could work together as easily in class. Byleth wasn’t one to ignore how Ingrid looked at Dedue with distrust, but she wasn’t as sure as to the reasons why.

“Professor, there!” Dimitri gestured to the side as they moved deeper into the mausoleum.

Standing in the center of the room, almost completely hidden in the shadows was a figure mounted on a horse.

“Death Knight! Prove your strength and scatter these fools!” The mage at the casket cried.

“I don’t take commands. Or waste my time on weaklings.” The figure spat, his voice garbled and distorted. Getting a better look at them, Byleth recoiled a bit; their armor was spiked and gleamed in the dim light. They wore a torn cape the color of blood and a horned, skull-like helmet that turned its gaze to them, shifting their hold on a scythe they carried.

“That knight looks like he has experience. It would be foolish to challenge him recklessly.” Dimitri warned.

Byleth nodded, keeping her focus locked on the knight as if they were a wolf ready to attack. “Right, avoid them if you can…”

The knight’s horse let out a shriek, and the armored man raised their fist. Their hand sparked and crackled with energy, only giving the students a brief moment to register what they were doing before scrambling to dodge out of the way as a large bolt of lightning shot across the room and slammed into the floor where Byleth was just standing.

She was able to catch her footing, mostly stunned than hurt, and quickly turned to the rest of her students. They seemed unharmed, standing up and brushing themselves off as the armored knight threw another blast of lighting to the other side of the tomb, barely avoiding Ingrid and Dedue. Ashe fired an arrow at the knight, having to quickly roll out of the way before he also got shocked.

“Damn dastard,” Felix glared at the knight, “There’s no way he’s just going to let us pass him.”

“We could distract him?” Sylvain suggested.

“Unless you want to get fried, I would disagree!” Felix snapped.

Dimitri frowned, “Someone needs to divert his attention, we don’t have much time.”

Byleth wracked her brain, trying to come up with some solution. There was only one knight, surely he couldn’t hold off all of them. Then again, he seemed ridiculously strong.

“I will not chase you,” The knight spoke to Byleth, red eyes staring at her, “Best that you flee.”

Mercedes frowned, “Oh my, how frightening! Won’t you please go easy on us?”

The knight turned his gaze to her, “You… was this meeting preordained?”

Mercedes blinked, “Hmm? What do you mean-?”

Before she could finish speaking, another bolt of lightning shot across the room. Byleth was about to run for the girl, but Mercedes moved quicker and jumped away before the spell could hit her. She let out a surprised gasp, but wasted little time composing herself.

“Mercedes! Are you okay?!” Sylvain cried, genuine concern on his face.

She nodded, “Yes, thank you…”

Byleth let out a sigh of relief.

“Give up now, and run before I end your lives where you stand.” The knight declared, glaring at the students before firing another lighting blast at the other side of the tomb and halting Dedue from moving forward.

Frustrated, Byleth scanned the room for a diversion. Anything at all. Then a plan formed, though it was a reckless one. But one that could work.

She looked to Dimitri, “When I say go, make a run for the casket. Take out anyone who tries to stop you.”

“Wh-?” His eyes went wide.

Byleth took off into a sprint, drawing the knight’s attention on her as she got close enough to the grim adversary to draw his attention.

“Wait, Byleth!” Dimitri cried. But before he could follow her, several other soldiers and mages advanced on him and the other students. Quickly, the prince was forced to turn his attention to them. Still, Byleth knew he’d be alright if Felix and Sylvain were there to give him a hand. Especially with Mercedes also keeping their wounds at a minimum.

The knight raised their scythe, their horse letting out a cry as it ran to intervene. Byleth tightened her grip on her sword, vaulting over one of the caskets as the scythe shot through the air and smashed against the stone. Byleth felt her nerves skitter as she felt the blade just barely miss the back of her neck.

“Foolish girl.” The knight raised to attack again.

She was preparing to run again, but then a blast of wind slammed into the back of their armor, only leaving a slight scratch, and the attacker turned sharply to see Annette ducked behind one of the other caskets.

“Over here!” She taunted, hands glowing with another spell.

“Annette, no!” Byleth yelled.

“You little-” Before the knight could throw another bolt of lighting, an arrow barely missed their face.

Ashe was also hiding behind one of the caskets, struggling to pull another arrow out while Ingrid took down another mage.

“I won’t let you hurt the professor!” He declared.

Byleth felt a wave of panic, afraid of what was going to happen.

“Enough of this!” The knight readied a bolt of lighting, preparing to strike.

Before Byleth could even think to turn back time to yell at Ashe and Annette, above the mounted knight formed several spikes crafted from shadows.

“Stay away!”

The knight let out a cry as the spell made its mark, slamming into the enemy at all angles and blasting him off balance.

From the entrance, Byleth could see several other people running down led by Byriel and Lysithea. The youngest student had a look of pride on her face.

“By!” Byriel yelled her nickname, drawing his sword as the rest of the Golden Deer readied their weapons.

Not wasting any more time, she made a sprint for the casket. The mage turned to her, their eyes hollow in the plague mask they wore.

“You’re too late! The seal will be broken any minute now!”

As the mage spoke, there was a flash of green over the casket. The mage quickly shoved the stone lid off and peered in.

“It’s no use! The seal is broken! You can’t-” They paused, reeling back, “What? A sword?”

From within the stone casket, the mage withdrew a sword. At the same time, Byleth ran straight for the mage and slammed her rusted blade against the mage’s sudden weapon. They released it, and the sword spun through the air. Quickly, Byleth dropped her sword to catch the stolen treasure, not wanting it damaged even if it wasn’t a body.

The old sword fell into her hand, narrowly missing the floor, and Byleth stared at it confused. Why was this in the casket?

The mage quickly conjured a ball of fire, throwing it close-range at the former mercenary. Out of reflex, she swung the sword at it. The spell bounced off the blade, causing it to glow a fiery red. 

“What the?!” The mage cried, backing away as Byleth stared at the mysterious weapon confused.

Holding the hilt of the sword, there was a warmth that wasn’t there moments ago. This weapon, whatever it was, it almost felt familiar. It felt  _ right _ to have it. 

Byleth tightened her hold, letting her rusted sword fall to the ground as she took this new weapon in both hands, feeling powerful just by holding it and stared down the cowering mage.

With nowhere to run, the mage began to conjure a new spell of sparking, blue energy that began to form in a ring around them. She ran for them, swinging the weapon right into the center of the ring of magic, cutting through the spell as if it were just air and slicing through the mage without a second thought.

Their body slumped to the ground, and the mysterious sword’s glow flickered and dimmed.

“Byleth?”

She turned, seeing that her brother was standing right behind her. She hadn’t even heard him approach, and he was staring at her with wide eyes.

“What is that sword?”

Byleth stared at the blade, “I… I don’t know.”

“Professor,” Dimitri was staring at her as if he had never seen her before, “The way that sword is glowing. I wonder…”

“That sword is…” The knight spoke up, “I see. What a pleasant surprise.”

In a flash of light, they were gone.

The prince turned to the spot and frowned, “He got away… we have no choice but to let them go for now.”

From the far end of the mausoleum, there were more footsteps. Catherine, aided by two other knights, ran into the room with weapons drawn. They were ready for a fight that had more or less been concluded.

“Is the intruder here?!” She looked around the room, then to the twins, “Oh, looks like you have this under control.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

In the end, there were only three remaining enemies. Cornered by two classes and Catherine, they surrendered and were brought before Seteth, Shamir, and the archbishop while the rest of the house leaders and the two professors watched. 

The advisor’s expression was cold as he stared at the three traitors, “As all of you have committed a breach of faith, the archbishop will now pass judgment.”

“Inciting a Kingdom noble to rebel. Unlawful entry. The attempted assassination of the archbishop. An attack on the Holy Mausoleum,” Shamir listed the crimes through gritted teeth, “It is unnecessary to go on, followers of the Western Church.”

The leader of the three looked confused, “What?! We have nothing to do with the Western Church!”

“You have already been identified,” Seteth stated harshly, “Please spare us your second-rate theater.”

“Dishonoring a holy ceremony is worthy of death for a member of the church,” Rhea spoke coldly, though her composure remained eerily calm, “You are well past the hope of redemption. If you have any grace remaining, you will willingly offer your life as atonement for this crime.”

Byleth felt a chill go down her spine at those words, and from the look on her brother’s face, he was also unnerved.

“No! This isn’t what we were told would happen! We’ve been deceived!” The priest begged.

“It’s no use arguing!” Shamir snapped, “Whatever your excuse, the punishment stands.”

Rhea clasped her hands together in a brief prayer, “May your souls find peace as they return to the goddess.”

“Wait! Please!” The priest cried, “The goddess would never forgive you for our execution!”

“Monster!” One of his companions yelled, “We know you’ve already slaughtered many of our fellow brethren like this!”

Rhea was unphased, “This concludes the investigation. Please remove these poor, lost souls from my sight.”

As the three priests were dragged away, there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. The three house leaders were stoic, though there were hints of other emotions on the faces of Claude and Edelgard from what Byleth could guess, something that was hidden beneath the surface she couldn’t quite place.

“I guess that’s that.” Claude broke the quiet first once the condemned priests were gone.

“I suppose so…” Dimitri nodded solemnly.

Edelgard remained quiet, her gaze towards the archbishop.

“Professors,” Rhea spoke first, looking at the twins, “If you could, I would like to have a word with you.”

Byleth turned to Dimitri, but he just nodded, “Go ahead, I will inform the others of what happened.”

“Same here, Teach.” Claude gave a wink to Byriel.

Byriel and Byleth gave each other a look, but then shrugged and did as asked. Following Rhea and Seteth through the cathedral and back towards the archbishop’s chambers. Once the doors were closed, Rhea stood before the two of them. Her expression was the same, but she seemed relieved.

“I cannot thank you both enough for defeating those invaders in the Holy Mausoleum. And especially for protecting the Sword of the Creator. That sword is one of the Heroes’ Relics and the most precious artifact in the church’s possession. It is also a weapon of terrifying power.”

Byleth tensed, having forgotten to return the sword to its resting place. She had forgotten that she had been holding onto it with a death grip, but no one had stopped to take it from her.

“I-I’m sorry…” She muttered, holding it out to return it to the archbishop.

Rhea smiled a little, “For now, I will entrust the sword to you both. Please, use it wisely.”

“What?” Byriel startled.

Byleth recoiled back, “E-Excuse me?”

Seteth gaped at the archbishop, “Lady Rhea, wait! Do you truly mean to give the Sword of the Creator to these strangers?!”

Though Byleth couldn’t blame Seteth for being suspicious, the word 'strangers' still stung a little.

“Surely it is not the sort of thing one hands over so readily, even to someone who has the ability to wield it! If someone like Nemesis were to appear again, all of Fódlan would be consumed by war!”

“Nemesis…?” Byriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

The advisor turned to Byriel, “Nemesis, the King of Liberation. He is an ancient king of mankind who was defeated by Seiros over a thousand years ago. When Fódlan was attacked by the wicked gods, it is said that the goddess gifted Nemesis with the Sword of the Creator. Nemesis used that sword to defeat the wicked gods, saving all of Fódlan. Henceforth he was dubbed the King of Liberation.”

Byleth stared at the sword in her hands, a little in awe at the idea that this was that very weapon, but also uneasy.

“However,” Seteth’s tone was grim, “His power began to corrupt him until he, himself, turned to the darkness. Saint Seiros was forced to destroy him.”

“Oh…” Byleth muttered, shrinking back a bit.

The advisor turned back to the archbishop, “Lady Rhea, I beg you to reconsider. Given a little more time, we could more accurately assess the professors' abilities.”

Rhea shook her head, “No. I have faith, Seteth. Faith that our friends here will not be corrupted by wickedness. Since the death of Nemesis, none have been able to wield the Sword of the Creator. Now, after all those long years of being sealed away, it has returned and found a new master.”

Seteth stared at her, frustration lining his face. But then the advisor sighed, defeated, “I… understand. As you wish, Lady Rhea.”

Byriel looked at the sword, though he was seemingly keeping a good distance away from the blade.

The advisor turned to the two of them, seemingly more exhausted than he had been just a minute ago, “There you have it, Professors. See that you two do not betray the trust the archbishop has seen fit to bestow upon you.”

“That is all, you are excused.” Rhea nodded to them.

The Eisner twins bowed briefly, and then left the room quietly. When the doors to the archbishop chambers were closed, they looked at each other.

“What now?” Byleth asked.

Byriel shrugged, “I have no idea…”

“The Sword of the Creator…” Sothis’s voice rang out in their heads, “The King of Liberation. Each tale is more confusing than the last! And I really can’t read that Rhea at all… ”

“Me neither.” Byriel frowned.

“That sword is clearly precious, so why is she so keen to gift the thing to you two?”

Byleth looked at the weapon, “It’s so strange… but it almost feels familiar.”

“I felt that way too.” Byriel looked at the blade, staring at it intently.

Sothis sighed, “I feel as though we have become entangled in a mystery.”

“It certainly feels like that,” Byriel muttered.

“And there is one more thing that has been plaguing me,” Sothis continued, “The Sword of the Creator… it somehow feels distinct from other Relics we have seen. Such as the one that… oh goodness, what was her name? Ca… Cat…”

Byriel frowned, “Catherine?”

“Yes! Her!” Sothis chirped, “The Sword of the Creator is different from her Thunderbrand in one key way. It bears a hole where something should have been, but is no more.”

Byleth held up the sword, examining it. Sure enough, there was a hole at the base of the blade that wasn’t there on Thunderbrand.

“There’s not one of those stones in the middle,” Byriel nodded.

“Maybe it fell off?” Byleth suggested.

Her brother scowled, “Fell off? I don’t think so.”

“I despise not knowing what is going on!” Sothis whined, “It… it frightens me. And yet, I place my trust in you two, I must. Whatever comes to pass, please swear to cut a path that is your own.”

They nodded, and then Sothis went quiet.

Instinctively, Byleth held out the sword for her brother to hold. But he instead took a step back and held up his hands.

“I don’t want it.”

She frowned, “Rhea said that both of us can keep it.”

Byriel shook his head, “You’re better with a sword anyway.”

“It’s  _ both _ of ours.”

He made a face, “I don’t know… it just feels wrong to me.”

“Weird?” Byleth raised an eyebrow.

He was quiet, searching for the right words, “I guess… it feels gross. Like there’s something not right with it, and if I touch it, it’ll hurt…?”

Byleth was stunned and confused at the response, “It’s only a sword, By.”

He shook his head again, “I really don't want it. You keep it, okay?”

She stared at him, but she resigned and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll hold onto it for now. But if you need it, you can borrow it.”

Byriel made a face, “I mean, it’s a cool sword. But it’s not  _ that _ cool.”

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I mean, it can’t even light on fire.”

The professor smiled a bit, “I mean, maybe it can?”

Byriel had a mischievous look, “We could test it out.”

The two of them were about to leave, but then Byleth paused for a moment. Her brother got a few feet away before stopping and looking at her with confusion as to why she had stopped.

“By?”

She turned to the archbishop chamber doors, “I… wanted to speak to the archbishop for a moment.”

“About?”

“Nothing serious,” She waved him off, “Go on ahead, I’ll meet you at the dining hall for dinner.”

Byriel looked at her, almost looking hurt at her departing from him. But then he nodded slowly, “Alright then… don’t be late.”

“I promise.”

Her brother turned, and then slowly went down the stairs on his own. Byleth waited a bit, at least long enough for Seteth to eventually leave the archbishop chambers and return to his own office. He didn’t even notice her standing off to the side.

When the advisor was gone, Byleth took a brief look into the archbishop chamber. Rhea was still there, her attention seemingly elsewhere. Though she quickly turned to the professor and smiled as she entered the room.

“Professor, what brings you back here?” She asked.

Byleth approached a little, “I wanted to speak with you…”

“Of course, it brings me great joy to know that you wished to visit me again,” She clasped her hands together, “What is on your mind?”

The former mercenary tensed, “It’s… It’s about what happened down in the Holy Mausoleum.”

“Yes?” Rhea took a step closer, concern on her face, “Were you hurt at all?”

“No, thankfully no one was hurt,” Byleth explained, “But… they could’ve been hurt. There was an enemy I had never seen before with skull-like armor, and if the Golden Deer hadn’t come when they had…”

She shuddered at the thought, remembering how Lord Lonato had cut down Ashe so easily before time had been rewound.

Rhea looked sympathetic, “I understand… it must’ve been frightening.”

Byleth frowned, “I know that my students can fight, and I know that I can protect them with a sword. But I still worry if that’s not enough, and there might be a day where I can’t reach them in time.”

The archbishop smiled softly, “Dear child, have confidence. I truly believe you can lead your students down the right path. But know that you can come to me if you are ever in doubt.”

The former mercenary straightened, “I know… that’s why I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

Byleth took a steadying breath, “I… I want to learn how to heal wounds like Byriel can. He has a natural talent for it, but no matter how much I try I can’t wrap my head around it. You saved Jeralt’s life once though when he was on the verge of death. I guess… I want to know how to do that too.”

The archbishop looked surprised, her green eyes wide. Then her expression grew a little brighter, “I see! It brings me great joy that you would approach me for this. I would be more than honored to teach you.”

Byleth blinked, “Y-You don’t mind at all?”

Rhea shook her head, “Not at all, Professor. Know that you are always welcome to come to me about anything. I am here for you, always.”

The happiness in the archbishop’s face seemed so genuine then. Rhea had always seemed so distant before, far away and lonely. Byleth wondered if she had many people to talk to being the archbishop of Fódlan.

Her eagerness didn’t waver as she spoke, “I have been busy as of late, however, if you so choose to, please return tomorrow in the morning. I would deeply enjoy the opportunity to speak with you and give you guidance.”

Byleth was a bit surprised at the archbishop’s enthusiasm. But she nodded, “Of course. I’ll come back, I promise.”

She bowed a bit, and Rhea laughed softly, “I greatly look forward to it.”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Anacharsis

╚═════════ ∘◦  👁 ◦∘ ═════════╝

_If he was braver, he would’ve liked to have joined the prayers in the cathedral above for the sermons._ Instead, he offered his prayers from the hidden safety of his workshop before heading out to make usual rounds.

From the looks of it, a lot of the residents of Abyss didn’t follow the teachings of Seiros. Plenty did, but not everyone. Anacharsis didn’t mind though, there were plenty of people in Shambhala who didn’t believe in gods at all, and some who believed in gods that the doctor had never even heard of. Not everyone was going to believe in the exact same thing, and it wasn’t in his place to really judge.

As the doctor completed his check-ups, mostly to the older and younger residents with new refills of medicine, he walked back to his closed up workshop. He saw that someone was waiting outside the structure, a young man with long dark hair, and wore a soldier’s uniform that Anacharsis had never seen before. The moment the doctor got close, the stranger turned and smiled at him.

“You must be the doctor I’ve heard so much about, right?” He asked.

Anacharsis straightened, “Yes? Can I help you?”

“I was hoping to get a remedy for muscle aches?”

The doctor nodded, “Yes, I can do that.”

Quickly he opened the workshop door, holding it open for the soldier to enter. Anacharsis made sure to close the door behind him and walked to his workbench.

“Can you describe your symptoms?” He asked, picking up one of his journals and turning to a new page.

As he turned to face the soldier, he felt his heart suddenly stop as the man’s face began to shift. The dark hair faded away, leaving a colorless grey mess behind. One dark eye stared at Anacharsis while the other was nothing but a white pit.

He smirked, “Just as stupid as I remember you being.”

The doctor backed into the table, shaking in fear so much he dropped his journal, “V-Valence-?!”

Valence scoffed, “Obviously. I knew you’d run if you saw me, so be grateful you got to see my favorite face.”

Anacharsis’s hands went to the table, blindly searching for a weapon to defend himself. But due to the panic, his fingers couldn’t find anything to grab onto.

“Wh-Why are you here?” The doctor asked, trying to keep himself from shaking.

Valence ran a clawed hand through his grey hair, “I heard someone whisper that a cowardly mouse had run away from Shambhala and had gone and made itself a nest beneath the monastery…”

Anacharsis felt his stomach churn.

Valence stared at the doctor, stretching out his fingers with a loud  _ crack _ , “No one likes pests that overstay their welcome, you know.”

“Th-Thales sent me-!” He blurted, “H-He asked me to gather information! To help you-!”

He froze, realizing he had made a mistake.

Valence’s expression turned murderous, “Thales sent  _ you _ to help  _ me _ ?”

“That’s not-!” Anacharsis shook his head frantically, “N-Not help, but to keep an eye-!”

“I don’t need anyone’s help, especially not from a spineless little runt like you!” Valence snarled, advancing on the doctor threateningly.

Anacharsis cried out, covering his head instinctively and squeezing his eyes shut as Valence stood over him, raising his claws to strike. He was going to die, he knew it!  After a long moment, there was no blow. He dared to open his eyes, seeing Valence standing over him with a blank expression.

Then the grappler laughed harshly, “What a joke… sending a milksop coward like you to the heart of the enemy’s territory. Either Thales thought it was funny, or he just wanted to get rid of you. I mean, why  _ else _ would even consider such an idea? He might as well have ordered you to walk up to Garreg Mach’s gates and offer up your neck to the axe like those priests from the Western Church.”

Anacharsis felt his stomach sink, hating that he knew Valence was right.

The doctor’s eyes quickly fell to his cot. His sword was still under the pillow, and even if it didn’t do much, it would be better to have any sort of weapon. If he could just get to it…! 

Valence looked around the workshop, walking around the small area slowly and deliberately, “Still, it seems like you’ve made yourself comfortable here in Abyss! In fact, I’d almost think that you _ liked _ playing pretend here.”

The doctor didn’t speak, moving just a little bit towards the cot.

Valence smirked at Anacharsis, “I wonder just how much of humanity has stained your mind… You know what happens to mice who get too comfortable around cats, right?”

“Y-You couldn’t have come all the way here just to laugh at me…” Anacharsis straightened a bit, slowly taking another step to his makeshift bed.

The grappler stretched out, “I suppose not. You know those professors?”

“The former mercenaries, yes. I’ve heard stories.” Anacharsis nodded.

Valence frowned, “Well, the Western Church failed their mission. Seiros’s remains weren’t in the tomb, but rather the Sword of the Creator. Even more so, one of those professors was able to wield it without a crest stone.”

Anacharsis blinked, shocked, “I-I thought you needed a crest stone to make those relics work at all…?”

“I thought so too.” Valence looked thoughtful, “In fact, it should be impossible. And yet one of those doll-like mercenaries can wield the King of Liberation’s weapon…”

Anacharsis thought over the possibility. Admittedly, his knowledge of the crest stones and the relics were limited. He had learned a little during his five years in Shambhala, but even in the underground city, that information was kept privy to only Thales and his closest companions. Crest stones powered relics, and crest stones were compatible with the respected crests, and that was everything he really knew.

Those professors must’ve been powerful to hold the weapon at all though… and that made them all the more terrifying.

“M-Maybe they’re descendants of the King of Liberation?” Anacharsis asked, taking another step, not too much further from his goal now, “O-Or maybe the King of Liberation passed on his crest to another person…?”

“Whatever. I don’t care about how or why they have it. But I’m sure Thales will be very interested when you tell him.”

Anacharsis froze, “What?”

Valence shrugged, “You’re reporting back to Shambhala anyway, so you can go ahead and tell Thales that the Western Church failed their mission and that the sword is in the hands of the professors.”

The doctor panicked, “M-Me?! But that’s  _ your  _ report-!”

“I don’t feel like going home right now,” The grappler grimaced, “It’s King’s Liberation Day in Shambhala, and the last thing I would ever want to waste my time on is sitting for hours listening to the same damn speech and choke down subpar wine. Also, I heard my least favorite person is going to be there, being celebrated for his return. I don't give a damn if Chilon is a war hero, he's rotten.”

Anacharsis felt the realization like a flick to the forehead; he had forgotten about King’s Liberation Day, and immediately grew sick at the idea. In his five years of learning in Shambhala, there were certain customs and traditions that he discovered the Agarthans had there. One of those was that the next few days, starting on the day of the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth were dedicated to the celebration of the day the King of Liberation freed the Agarthans from the rule of the Goddess. It lasted for several days and was celebrated with large feasts and plenty of drinking, all in the name of freedom from the Goddess’s rule. 

While Fódlan used today to pray for the day their Goddess would return, Shambhala honored the man who murdered her as if he were their true savior. Periander, who worshipped the Goddess and her teachings, despised the holiday. Neither did Anacharsis, being a believer of Seiros’s teachings. So returning home right at the start of such morbid festivities made him recoil.

“I-I can’t-.”

“And why not?”

Anacharsis swallowed nervously, “Y-You’re just making me do it because you don’t want to face Thales when he’s angry!”

Valence scoffed, “Oh, that’s absolutely true. But you really can’t say no, can you?”

The doctor shuffled a little more, his back to his cot, “I can’t, but…”

“But…?”

Anacharsis bit the inside of his cheek, “Wh-Why don’t you want to go back to Shambhala?”

Valence’s expression darkened, and he turned his back to the doctor, “I don’t feel like it.”

Anacharsis felt annoyance and anger in his cheeks at the Agarthan avoiding the question, “You’re one of Thales’s most honored warriors, what’s so important that you don’t want to go back for Liberation Day and sit by his side? Besides, Thales probably won't even make you talk to Chilon and you know that.”

The grappler tensed, and the doctor slowly inched his hand under his pillow.

“I have other important things to do,” Valence stated plainly, “There’s someone at this monastery I’ve been watching for a while now. Studying their every move so that when the day comes, I’ll add a new face to my collection.”

Anacharsis felt a wave of nausea go through him at the idea, but he gripped his weapon tightly and held it behind his back.

“But who? Who’s so strong that you’d need to-?”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Valence spun around on him. He was too fast for Anacharsis to register the movements of. The next thing he realized was that he was being held by his throat and lifted into the air.

The doctor let out a cry, but it came out as a strangled gag. He frantically kicked, desperately trying to find perch for his feet, his fist pounding at the grappler’s impossibly strong arm.

“They’re  _ not _ stronger than me!” Valence spat, hatred and anger boiling in his face, “They’re nothing but a weak, pathetic worm of a fighter!”

“H-Help-!” Anacharsis choked.

Valence tightened his grip on the doctor’s throat, and Anacharsis cried out. In desperation, the doctor swung their dagger through the air in an attempt to hit the grappler hard enough to let him go. But before the blade could make its mark, Valence’s other hand caught the weapon. Holding it tight in his gauntleted hand.

The Agarthan looked murderous, “No one is stronger than me. I am the strongest Agarthan who ever existed, no human could ever hope to beat me.”

_ Snap. _

The blade of the dagger suddenly bent in Valence’s grip, snapping in half and rendering the weapon useless.

“And especially not you.”

Before Anacharsis could yell for help, Valence slammed his gauntleted fist right into the doctor’s face. He saw stars, the world going white as pain exploded across his left eye, effectively shutting him up. The crest on Valence’s chest flashed a bright red, and the grappler threw the doctor against the edge of his work table. Papers and vials scattered, several crashing to the floor and breaking to pieces as Anacharsis’s body bounced off the edge of the table and collapsed to the ground.

Running on adrenaline, Anacharsis scrambled to try and get away. To run to the door, to get where there were people who could help him. But as he was climbing to his feet, Valence’s claws dug into the back of the doctor’s head and forced his face to the stone floor.

“S-Stop-!” Anacharsis choked out, his face being painfully shoved into the ground.

Valence laughed, a high-pitched sound that sounded more like nails on a chalkboard, “Or what? You think  _ you _ can take  _ me  _ on in a fight?! Go ahead, I can just tell your little spider friend that you were executed by the archbishop and watch him get himself killed trying to avenge you. One less pain for Thales, he’d probably reward me for getting rid of the broken little doctor who couldn’t even save his fake mother and father.”

Anacharsis let out a strangled scream, fueled by pain and anger, only to get another painful blow to the side of his ribs courtesy of Valence’s fist that cut off his cries.

The grappler got close to his ear, “Consider this a friendly tip. Be a good little messenger and go back to Shambhala, and don’t come back. Because if you get in my way again, I’ll personally drag you to the pyre the archbishop uses to burn mistakes like you alive.”

The doctor was silent, gritting his teeth and trembling. Pain throbbed in his ribs and over his eye. He wanted to cry out, to say some kind of insult to him. To prove that he wasn’t a coward, b ut he couldn’t find his voice.

Valence slammed his face into the floor one more time, pain igniting across his jaw before the grappler stood up and brushed the dirt off his armor.

“You know, if you would just keep your mouth shut this wouldn’t happen,” Valence stated bluntly, “I’m a reasonable person usually, but you had to go and piss me off.”

Anacharsis shakily attempted to push himself onto his hands and knees. But before he could, he felt another powerful blow slam right into his ribs, causing him to gag and collapse again.

“I could break you, you know,” Valence continued, almost lecturing him, “But I went easy on you. Next time, I won’t hold back as much.”

With that, the grappler’s face shifted back into the one he had called his favorite. The one with dark hair and an unfamiliar soldier’s uniform.

He turned to the door, but before he left he spoke up in a mocking tone, “One more thing. Tell anyone my cover, breathe a single word of this to another soul, and I’ll use you as my practice dummy before I go after my real target.”

With that stated, the Agarthan left. Leaving Anacharsis to slowly clamber to his hands and knees, trembling from the pain and fear. The room felt colder now and unnaturally quiet as the threats Valence promised hung over the doctor.

_ Get up. _

He pushed himself up, slowly getting back to his feet. The pain in his ribs remained, and the throbbing in his eye didn’t dissipate. The world seemed fuzzy, coming in in unclear pictures. The doctor felt so tired all of a sudden. Did he have a concussion? Was something broken?

Slowly, he moved to the workbench. His hands clumsily shifted through the papers and spilled elixirs until he found a small, violet-toned bottle that he had made for dulling pain. Ungracefully, he yanked the stopper off and drank down the contents. Though the effect wasn’t immediate, the pain was subsiding a little. Enough where he could focus.

With that, he sat on the edge of his cot. Feeling exhausted all of a sudden, he went over the threats. He hadn’t stopped shaking, but now that Valence was gone he felt his eyes burning.

_ Don’t cry. _

He sniffled back a sob, laying down for a moment just to rest. It all came back at once, and he was scared. He was terrified of Valence, he was terrified of Thales, but who could he turn to? Periander was too far away and the only family he had ever known were gone. No one else could possibly hope to understand or help him.

He had nowhere else to fly to other than the cage called Shambhala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LadyVanitas: Thanks to over 20k views! For 15k views I drew Anacharsis and for 20k views I will be drawing Valence! You can vote for the next Agarthan milestone doodle in our Discord :> 
> 
> Anacharsis: https://twitter.com/meredithKB13/status/1285346306165112832


	34. Chapter 33: The Ashen Wolves

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Thirty-Three ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ The Ashen Wolves ⋅ ✦

* * *

Yuri

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♟ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ It didn’t take long for Yuri to learn about the execution of the three members of the Western Church _. That, as well as the news of the mysterious professors wielding the holy relic that rested in the mausoleum.

The more those professors showed up in reports, the more intriguing they became to Yuri.

While no assassins targeting the archbishop were foolish enough to try traveling through Abyss, there were a fair share of mercenaries and thieves that attempted to pass through. They were quickly taken down by the Ashen Wolves, but the fights were becoming more and more frequent and their numbers were pitifully small.

“Those creeps keep on coming…” Balthus scowled, their most recent fight having just come to an end. The large arena-shaped cavern was littered with the fallen bodies of the fools that had tried their luck fighting them, and had lost miserably.

“What? Tired already?” Yuri smirked a little.

“No way in hell, pal!” The brawler cracked his knuckles together in anticipation, “Didn’t even break a sweat!”

Despite the jovial tone in Balthus’s voice, the brawler had taken quite a thrashing in the fight. He was covered in fresh bleeding cuts and his breathing was slightly labored.

“Are we done here?” Hapi asked, her tone blunt.

Yuri withdrew his sword, “Yeah, I doubt they’ll try anything else tonight. Let’s turn back for now.”

Constance huffed out in anger, “How dare these surface dwelling fools descend to Abyss! Such insolence shall be birched!”

“Another time, kay?” Hapi said dismissively, “I could use a break.”

The four of them made one last sweep of the area, confirming that the onslaught had ended for now. With that they began the journey back towards Abyss, passing through tunnels and careful to reset the traps lining the way in case anyone tried to come back.

With the main road in sight, Constance turned to the group, “With that, I will bid you all adieu! I have quite imperative matters to attend!”

Hapi stretched out a bit, “Yeah, I’m gonna go and get some sleep.”

“Go ahead, you both earned it,” Yuri smirked a bit, “Just be prepared for tomorrow. Something tells me we have another fight waiting for us.”

Constance laughed haughtily, “How amusing that you should underestimate my contributions!”

With that laugh, the shady bird went off. Hapi shrugged and left without much grandeur. Now it had come down to just Balthus and Yuri, the former looking haggard from the previous fight.

Yuri held a small elixir vial to his fellow classmate, “Here’s something to patch up the cuts for a bit.”

Balthus took the glass vial and looked it over, “What is it?”

“Got it from our resident doctor,” The house leader explained, “They work pretty well.”

Recognition flashed across the brawler’s face, “Doctor? You mean the little guy with yellow eyes I see walking around Abyss sometimes?”

“Same one,” Yuri nodded, “Bit of a recluse, but he has some pretty effective medicine.”

“You don’t say! Wouldn’t get that from him, he runs in the opposite direction whenever I see him.” Balthus admitted.

The Ashen Wolf leader wasn’t too surprised, “You probably scared him.”

His fellow student looked stunned, “Never meant to scare the guy!”

Yuri didn’t doubt that, “He’s a bit skittish.”

As they were discussing the anxious nature of the doctor, the house leader quickly looked over the street and spotted the workshop that belonged to Anacharsis. The doctor was standing outside the small building, his small bag resting by his feet as he locked up the door with shaking hands.

“Ah, jumpy bird,” Yuri spoke up, causing Anacharsis to duck his head down, “Up late as usual I see.”

“I-I’m just…” He muttered quietly, keeping his head down, “I’ll be gone for a few days.”

"You're leaving?" The house leader was surprised.

“It’ll just be for a few days, I’ll return soon.”

Balthus narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, “Hey pal, is that a bruise?”

The doctor flinched and Yuri’s attention sharpened. “What?”

Anacharsis swallowed, “I-It was my fault…”

Yuri took a few steps forward, and finally got a proper look at him; the doctor’s left eye was ringed with a dark bruise, his cheek was slightly swollen and his lower lip was split with a fresh cut on it. This was definitely not the work of just falling down.

“Who did this?!” Yuri gaped at the bruise.

Anacharsis shook his head, “I-It was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going and fell down the stairs. It was an accident.”

“One hell of an accident, pal!” Balthus looked intently at the doctor’s face, “You gonna tell us that the other guy looks worse?”

“I wish- I mean-!” He stumbled over his words.

Yuri stepped right in front of Anacharsis, “Tell me who did this. If this was someone from Abyss, then I need to know.”

He tried to keep his voice steady, but it was difficult to keep his composure. Anacharsis was not a fighter or the type to just stir up trouble, so what sort of low-life would cause this much harm to him?

The doctor hung his head, ashamed of himself, “It was my fault… I should’ve kept my mouth shut-”

“_ Who _ did this?” Yuri repeated, his voice stern.

Anacharsis was quiet, long enough that Yuri hoped that the doctor would open up about what had happened. But then he withdrew more into himself, “Th-They had dark hair and wore a uniform I didn’t recognize. It happened so fast, I wouldn’t be able to point them out… I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t much to go off of, plenty of people in Abyss were former soldiers and dark hair alone wasn’t a powerful descriptor. Still, there were other ways to gather information, and it was a start.

“Alright,” The house leader frowned, “But if you remember what they look like, come to me and I’ll make them pay for what they did.”

Anacharsis nodded stiffly, “I-I’m sorry to trouble you.”

Balthus gestured to the doctor’s bag, “You’re not leaving because of the guy who beat you up, right pal?”

“N-No, that’s not it. I’m visiting a friend back in the capital…” Anacharsis explained, “He’s the one who told me to come to Abyss.”

“Is it safe for you to go back to Enbaar?” Yuri questioned, recalling that he had explained the whole reason he had come to Abyss was to hide from people who wanted him dead.

“If it’s for him, it’s worth the risk,” the doctor explained, “He’s really strong, so we’ll be safe.”

Anacharsis grabbed the handle of his doctor’s bag, preparing to leave. Though as much as he tried to hide it, Yuri caught the grimace of pain when he reached down to grab his things.

“You won’t get far like this,” Yuri stated, already preparing a spell to take care of the bruises, “Hold still for a moment.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.” Anacharsis insisted.

“I’d prefer it if you came back alive.” 

There was a quick flash of glowing runes and the bruises on the doctor’s face began to fade. It didn’t completely erase the injuries, but it was an improvement from before. 

Anacharsis shuffled a bit, tightening his grip on his bag, “Th-Thank you…”

“Not a problem, jumpy bird,” Yuri kept his tone stern, but it was edged with concern, “But I want you to be careful on the road, alright? 

The timid doctor nodded, “I promise I’ll be careful…”

“Better be, pal!” Balthus had a huge grin on his face, “Because when you get back, I’ll have to teach you how to throw a real punch!”

Anacharsis’s eyes went wide, “Wh-What?”

“Least I can do for you for this thing!” The brawler showed the elixir Yuri had given him, “And everyone should know how to throw a real blow!”

Surprisingly, the barest hint of a small smile flashed over the doctor’s face. But then he simply nodded, “I-I’ll remember that… thank you, sir.”

“Please, just call me Balthus. None of that “sir” stuff.”

“R-Right, Balthus,” Anacharsis corrected quickly, “Thank you. Thank you both…”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

The doctor left shortly after that, and for the next few days Yuri did his own investigation in between the constant onslaught of enemies foolish enough to take on Abyss. Maybe the doctor wouldn’t tell him who attacked him, but that didn’t mean there weren’t witnesses of some kind.

Four days passed, and no sign of Anacharsis returning. In that time, Yuri was able to press a few people from the inn and streets for information regarding the attack. From what he could gather from the various stragglers of the underground town, someone no one had ever seen before was asking the residents if they knew where Anacharsis’s shop was specifically. Someone who wore a blue uniform and had long dark hair, 

Whoever they were, they were smart enough to sneak past the guards of the monastery and knew of Abyss’s existence. It was an unsettling thought, but Yuri couldn’t spend all that time searching for what was essentially a ghost. There were pressing issues that needed his attention, so the hunt for the strange assailant would have to wait a bit.

He had no idea how late it was, but the inn was lively with patrons and travelers browsed the various wares of the stands that were open. In comparison, the Ashen Wolf classroom was silent as the grave as Yuri and Balthus sat at a well-worn chess board waiting for the scout he had sent out to return.

The brawler leaned his face into his hand and spoke through a yawn, “Ugh… Yuri, this is brutal. Tell me again why you’re subjecting me to this devastating boredom?”

“Enough with the yawning, Balthus. If you’re really _ that _bored, we could always make a friendly wager.” The house leader moved one of his pawns forward on the board.

“Thanks but no thanks, pal. I’m low on funds as it is, last thing I need is another debt I can’t pay.”

“Right, B. As if you could say no to that.” Hapi chidded, both her and Constance entering the room and approaching their game.

Constance let out a laugh, “How diverting that you should bicker for my amusement! Imagine my overwhelming dread were I stuck here without such joyous entertainment.”

Hapi shook her head, “Count me out. I’ll leave the talking to Yuri-bird and Coco.”

Before Balthus could make a move, the scout Yuri had sent out entered the room, “Hey, Boss!”

The house leader rose to his feet and turned to the scout, “Back already, huh? Have you detected any movement on the surface?”

He shifted uncomfortably, “Well uh… I looked for the cardinals’ meeting - just like you said. Thing is, I was spotted by some weirdos. They chased after me and everything.”

Yuri frowned, “Some ‘weirdos,’ you say. So very helpful… They weren’t knights, were they?”

The scout shrugged, “I dunno. There were only a few of ‘em, but I bet they were armed to the teeth!”

The house leader wanted to laugh at the very notion of the idea, “With meager numbers like that, I doubt they intend to take on Abyss.”

“They probably took you for some kind of villain. They’ll lock ya up if they catch ya,” Balthus had an eager look on his face as he stood up from the table, “Finally, a little action! Let’s find them first and throw some punches!”

Before anyone could really say anything to protest, the brawler was already walking for the door.

“Hold, Balthus!” Constance scowled, “Tis ignorance itself to rush headfirst into trouble.”

“You’re excited to fight too,” Hapi said with a small grin, “You’ve been waiting for a chance to try out your shiny new magic.”

Yuri chuckled a bit, “They’re probably not knights, but our new friends definitely work for the church. Surface laws don’t apply down here, so that gives us the freedom to have some fun with them. ”

The four of them were already well-equipped for a fight, and that was what they intended on delivering to the fools who wandered too far from the surface.

The house leader knew the tunnels and passageways like the back of his hand, so it wasn’t too difficult to find a route that would go unnoticed. Then it was a matter of waiting for the first signs of their new friends.

“Is it normal for schools to have people living in their basements?” A male’s voice asked in a sort of innocent manner. Yuri almost laughed aloud at the question, but held his tongue and waited for the right moment.

Balthus, however, didn’t have that patience and was the first one to confront the group. Shortly he was followed by Constance, and Yuri waited.

“Time to make a strategic retreat then?” One member of the group suggested.

“Turning back already? Oh, but you’ll make me so sad,” Yuri smirked as he joined his companions with Hapi, “Now why would you wanna do that? Everyone here is starved for amusement, they’ve been waiting for a good fight.”

“Wow, look at that; a flawless example of a surprise attack,” one of the group members stated sarcastically, “These aren’t your run-of-the-mill thugs.”

A princely-looking member of their group frowned at the speaker, “Claude, this isn’t the time to be impressed by our enemy.”

Finally getting a look at the group, the house leader quickly scanned their faces. They were very clearly students from the Officer’s Academy, all from various houses and ranging in ages. But out of the eight he could see, two of them stood out more than the rest. A pair of twins, if he had to guess, with the same dark blue hair and eyes.

The male of the pair looked to Yuri and narrowed his eyes, “I would’ve thought goblins or something lived down here…”

Yuri smirked, “Disappointed that I’m not a goblin?”

He frowned, “I mean, you could still be a goblin. But I don’t think goblins are as pretty as you.”

There was a silence in the group as they looked to the male twin as if he were insane or something. Even Yuri was a bit at a loss for words; did he just hear this correctly?

His sister gave him a look, “By, don’t compliment the enemy!”

One of their companions, Claude if he remembered right, looked at him with wide eyes, “W-Wait a minute, what?”

He shrugged, “Just stating the obvious.”

Balthus blinked and stared at the one named Claude, “Wait, Claude is it? As in the brand-new heir of House Riegan?”

The noble smiled, turning his attention back to the Ashen Wolves, “Who, me? Nah, wrong guy. Claude’s a common name in Fódlan. It’s just too dashing for new moms to pass up. It’s even a popular choice for fake names. Just a good, solid, all-purpose moniker, you know?”

The male twin looked confused, “Wait, Claude isn’t your real name?”

The noble only winked at the twin, causing him to scowl a bit.

Balthus smiled, “Right, except there’s only one Claude enrolled at the academy this year. Looks like that’s you.”

Claude flinched, “How do you even know that?”

Balthus laughed, “You just gave yourself away, pal! Looks like my luck’s finally taking a turn for the good.”

_ If only it was like that in regards to your debts, friend. _

“All right, so your choices are as follows,” The brawler cracked his knuckles, “The beating of a lifetime, or letting us lock you up like the good boys and girls you undoubtedly are.”

Claude sighed, “I have no clue what this guy’s going on about, but it looks like a fight’s in order, and it’s pretty much all my fault. There’s a saying from the east about fighting a flicker with a flame; seems applicable right about now.”

“Finally! Let’s do this already! Prepare to face the Almighty King of Grappling!” Balthus cheered.

Yuri withdrew his own sword, smirking a little as the rest of their adversaries did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: Sorry for the late upload, but we wanted to get this up as soon as we could.
> 
> Vanitas and I are going to be taking a little bit of a hiatus so we can catch up with the chapters in GS so we have more to upload. We will be back in about 2-3 weeks, and we will be back with more content.
> 
> I'll also be working on a small fluffy fic in between the break, so there'll still be some content.
> 
> Thank you all so much for your support and love, and we will return with more! Stay safe out there everyone! :)


	35. Chapter 34: Cindered Shadows

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Thirty-Four ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Cindered Shadows ⋅ ✦

Byriel

╚═════════ ∘◦  ❍ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ Earlier that evening… _

_ Despite his sister’s offer of him using the Sword of the Creator whenever he needed it, Byriel didn’t think he’d ever take up that offer. _ Maybe it was some kind of paranoia, but there was something unsettling about that sword; the fact it was in a casket when they found it and the energy that radiated from the blade, it made his stomach churn with a sort of anxiety.

He thought that if he ever laid a finger on that thing, it would burn him. It sounded ridiculous, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was something that shouldn’t exist.

_ That’s crazy, right? It’s just a stupid old sword… right? _

“Hey, Teach!”

Byriel snapped out of his train of thoughts, turning to the source of his name. Standing in the entryway of the small courtyard behind the dining hall was the Golden Deer House leader himself, smiling that same scheming grin at the young professor.

“You seem like you’re in deep thought,” Claude continued, “Is it something interesting?”

The professor frowned, “Not really. Are you trying to sneak up on me or something?”

“Who? Me? Never.” Claude chuckled.

Byriel narrowed his eyes, suspicious.

The house leader walked up to Byriel’s side, “Do you remember our conversation we had when we were outside the monastery? The one about the underworld beneath Garreg Mach?”

“I remember,” He nodded, “Why?”

Claude’s grin widened, “Well, I’ve been doing a few stakeouts. You know, trying to see if there’s anything suspicious. I heard a few rumors that there’s people sneaking around the monastery at night, so I’m going to see if they’re true for myself.”

“Isn’t that kind of dangerous to do on your own?” Byriel asked.

The house leader gave the professor a wink, “Feel like joining me then?”

“If Seteth catches us, we could both get into a world of trouble.” Byriel pointed out.

“I mean, it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong,” Claude didn’t lose his smile, “Afterall, there could still be dangers lurking in the shadows that we haven’t stopped yet. Best the two of us keep an eye out.”

Though the excuse was still somewhat flimsy, Byriel didn’t exactly feel like returning to his room. Surely there wasn’t anything wrong with holding a stakeout, right?

“Alright then,” Byriel crossed his arms, “Let’s do it then.”

The house leader looked somewhat smug as the young professor followed him into the courtyard and behind the hedges. Being a former mercenary, Byriel was relatively familiar with stakeouts. There were a few times where their targets needed to be lured out into a specific location, so sometimes Byriel and his family were left to wait out the whole night for the enemy to appear.

Being a night person, Byriel didn’t mind staying up later and swapping out with the house leader a few times for watch. But he did mind when, after what must’ve been hours, nothing appeared to be out of the ordinary. By this point, the sky was dark enough for him to see clear constellations in the stars above, such as the ever-helpful King’s Right Hand constellation.

From next to him, Claude let out a loud yawn, “Damn, nothing yet…”

Byriel tilted his head a bit to look at the tired noble, “Do you want to trade places?”

The house leader sighed a bit, taking a seat on the bench next to the professor, “In a moment. What are you staring at?”

“Just looking at the stars. Not much else to stare at other than the ground.”

“Oh yeah?” The house leader leaned back against the bench, “Are you familiar with the constellations then?”

Byriel shrugged a little, “Sort of. I spent a lot of time sleeping outside as a mercenary, so I would just stare up at the sky and make up my own constellations to help me go to sleep.”

Claude chuckled a bit, “You seem to have a pretty interesting imagination, Teach. Tell me, what are one of your constellations?”

The professor looked to the sky and pointed, “Do you see the King’s Right Hand?”

The noble frowned, staring at the sky with a somewhat lost expression. Byriel remembered then that Claude wasn’t from Fódlan, wanting to kick himself for forgetting, but deciding not to bring that up.

“Hold up your hand.” He instructed.

Claude did so hesitantly and Byriel immediately got closer, carefully grabbing the noble’s wrist and adjusting the position to match a pattern of the small lights in the sky shaped in a slight curve.

“That one is the King’s Right Hand,” Byriel explained, “It’s called that because it’s part of a bigger constellation called King Loog and is shaped like a hand. But if you keep following it north, it kind of looks like a snake. I call it the Dragon of the North.”

The noble laughed a bit, more of a soft rumble in his chest, “More dragons?”

“I like dragons.” He stated flatly.

“Nothing wrong with that. Dragons are pretty amazing,” Claude turned his head a bit to look at the professor, “Funny though. That pattern you call the King’s Right Hand? It has a different name where I’m from.”

“What is it?”

The noble moved closer, enough where there was only just a few inches in between them and caused Byriel to feel like a swarm of butterflies were fluttering in his chest.

“That curve in the hand?” Claude drew a line in the air, “Look a little more to the west and it looks like an archer, yeah?”

Byriel squinted, his eyesight not as sharp without glasses, “I don’t…”

The noble moved closer, sneaking his left arm around the professor’s shoulders and pointing up to the sky. They were close enough that Byriel could faintly catch the scent of citrus Claude always carried, causing him to freeze up.

“See up there?” The noble asked.

Frankly, it was difficult to focus on anything now. But Byriel forced himself to look up and towards the direction Claude was pointing at.

“Y-Yes,” His throat felt dry, “I see him…”

“That one’s called Mithra,” The noble explained, almost sounding longingly, “He points in the direction of the sunrise. So if you’re ever lost, look to the north and find his bow. He’ll help you find where the sun rises.”

“Mithra…” Byriel echoed the unfamiliar name, “Is he a warrior?”

“He’s both a warrior and a god. Legends say he rides into battle on a chariot armed with a bow and arrows of gold,” Claude explained softly, “A god of the rising sun, contracts, and friendship.”

Byriel tilted his head a bit, his eyes tracing over the shape in the sky, “I never thought about that. Different constellations in the eyes of others. But it’s all the same sky… not so different from each other.”

Claude had a faint smile on his lips as he lowered his arm around the professor’s waist, “Yeah… not so different after all.”

He should’ve pulled away, Byriel was still Claude’s professor and they could get caught if someone decided to walk through this path, but the day’s events were catching up with the professor. So, just this once, he allowed his muscles to relax one at a time and to ease against the house leader’s shoulder. He craned his head up, looking into the Golden Deer house leader’s face and focusing on the faint shadows under his eyes.

“You look tired.” Byriel frowned.

Claude gave him a lazy smile, “It’s not every day that people try to invade the Holy Mausoleum and your professors magically are able to wield something like the Sword of the Creator.”

A sick feeling went through the young professor thinking about the sword again, wondering why his sister didn’t feel the same way about it as he did.

The house leader must’ve noticed the grim expression Byriel had on, “What’s on your mind, Teach? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

_ I talk to a ‘ghost’ on a daily basis. Does that count? _

“I don’t know,” He shrugged, “I guess I’m not feeling all that magical after that fight.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Claude tilted his head a bit, “Your sister was the one who found the sword first. You two might share the same crest though, so I imagine you could still use it.”

Byriel shook his head, “I don’t want it.”

“What?” The house leader looked surprised, “Why not?”

“It’s just…” The professor struggled for the right words, sitting up straighter and away from the noble’s side, “I don’t trust it. It feels wrong.”

“How so…?” Claude looked intrigued, but also there was a hint of concern in his voice.

Byriel clenched his hands tightly, “It just… being close to it today, just seeing it glow, it feels wrong. Like it shouldn’t exist at all, or that it’ll burn me if I touch it.”

The house leader huffed a short laugh, “ _ You _ ? Afraid of being burnt?”

“Claude, listen,” Byriel cried, “There’s something wrong with it, I know it!”

“It’s just another Relic, Teach,” Claude shrugged, not seemingly taking the matter as serious as Byriel was, “But if you’re concerned about it, maybe you can lend it to me sometime-”

“ _ Never _ !” He snapped the words, harsher than he meant it to sound. But the idea of the noble even laying a finger on that weapon, the very notion of Claude going near it, filled the young professor with anxiety that he never knew he had for someone other than his sister.

Claude was staring at him, looking shocked at his sudden outburst. A wave of embarrassment flooded over Byriel, and he quickly averted his gaze from the noble and to his extremely dusty boots.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you…” He said quietly, preparing to stand up and leave.

“Hold on a moment-!”

Before the professor could get up, a warm hand caught the side of his face and moved his gaze to meet Claude’s. He looked worried, and Byriel suddenly forgot that he was about to leave.

“I’m not trying to minimize your feelings, By,” Claude said, “It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you afraid of anything.”

Byriel frowned a bit, leaning his head into the noble’s fingers a little, “I get scared too… I just never have the choice to show it. I have to be strong for everyone, no matter what.”

The words brought to mind images that the young professor didn’t want to remember again. Ones of death, the deaths of his students that were erased to time but remained in his memories. Images of Claude bleeding out in his arms that wouldn’t go away, and the knowledge that it was his fault for his lack of planning.

The noble watched the professor quietly, slowly tracing a thumb over the former mercenary’s cheek. It was a comforting gesture, one that Byriel never thought he’d ever want from someone, and surprising coming from someone as distant as Claude von Riegan.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put this all on you…” Byriel mumbled.

The house leader shook his head a bit, “You don’t need to apologize for that, By. It’s a lot, sure, but… it’s nice to be trusted with something like this. I wouldn’t think you’d tell me, of all people.”

“That’s because I  _ do _ trust you,” Byriel stared at Claude’s sea-green eyes, “After everything that’s happened, why wouldn’t I?”

The noble swallowed a bit, “I-I trust you too, By…”

On impulse, Byriel reached up and ran his fingers against the line of the noble’s smooth jaw. He felt Claude’s arm rest against his waist, and it occured to the former mercenary that there was very little space between them. Byriel felt his body burning and his hands trembling, their faces were just inches apart now and he had no idea how the hell it happened.

“Claude, um…” The professor began, only to trail off.

“Hm?”

He swallowed, “W-Who’s watching the…?

The noble hummed, brushing away a strand of azure hair from Byriel’s face and not seemingly caring about the reason why they were out here.

The young professor wondered if he had a heartbeat, would it give out at this moment?

_ Should I close my eyes? _

As it occurred to Byriel, as Claude closed the distance between them, all thoughts of what they were originally doing out here slipped away.

_ Smash!  _ The sound of several wooden boxes crashing to the ground and splintering shot through the air, causing the two to jump.

“What was that?!” Claude pulled away, quickly jumping to his feet and running to look around the corner.

_ Someone is going to die. _ Byriel thought grumpily as he quickly followed the house leader.

As the two rounded the corner, immediately they spotted a shadowy figure standing amidst the wreckage of several barrels and crates. They were holding a large bag over their shoulder, and they froze the moment they saw Byriel and Claude round the corner.

“Hey! Who the hell are you?” Claude demanded.

The figure broke out of their frozen state, breaking into a full-on sprint down the dorm room paths. Immediately, the two ran after them. But the figure quickly got ahead of them and disappeared around a corner right next to Byleth’s room.

As they did, Byriel could hear Bandit the sandwich-stealer barking on the other side of his sister’s room. His twin quickly opened the doors, her gaze quickly falling on the rounding figure and then back to the two.

They skidded to a stop, eyes falling on the corner with eyes wide. There was a hole in the wall illuminated by a torch and with old-looking stairs leading down.

“What’s going on?” Byleth asked, her stance tense.

“Evening, Teach!” Claude smiled at her, grinning broadly.

“Who was that?” She ran a hand through her hair, looking like she had just gotten out of bed, “And what is this?”

“The suspicious shadow people are back.” Byriel stated.

His sister blinked, “The ones Linhardt mentioned?”

“Yeah, the same,” Byriel stared at the hole, “This might be their hideout.”

Byleth straightened, looking determined, “We should get the other house leaders…”

Claude gave him a sly grin, “Aw, c’mon By. We can handle it ourselves, yeah?”

Byriel felt his cheeks burn, “I-I-”

“No way,” Byleth scowled a bit, grabbing her brother by the arm and tugging him a bit, “I’m not letting you go off on your own. I’ll wake up Edelgard and Dimitri, you two stay put and don’t move a muscle.”

He made a huff of annoyance, “By, I’m not-”

“No arguing.” She stated firmly.

Before he could even think of arguing, she was already running towards the end of the dorms and to the stairs that led up to the nobility levels. In the meantime, Byriel and Claude stood around awkwardly, not acknowledging the open hole in the wall or what had almost happened between them.

“Claude, I…” Byriel began, only for the sentence to die in his throat. What was he supposed to say? He was pretty sure that what had almost happened was breaking a lot of rules, and he didn’t want to get Claude into trouble with Seteth.

_ He’s also the future sovereign of the Alliance. You’re a nobody mercenary turned professor. You could get him into a lot of trouble. _

Before he could dwell on anything, he heard the collective footsteps of other students approaching. 

Claude forced a smile, “Let’s save this for later, right?”

“Sure…” Byriel nodded stiffly as his sister returned with Dimitri and Edelgard by her side.

The prince’s eyes went wide at the sight of the passage, “What is that…?”

“I think it’s a passageway.” Byleth stared at the gaping hole with suspicion.

Claude nodded, turning his attention to the prince, “Yup. And I’m also pretty sure I saw a suspicious person go down there.”

“Are you sure?” Dimitri asked, his voice lined with doubt.

“Unless I dreamt it up while sleepwalking, there’s no mistaking what we saw.”

Byleth looked to her brother, “What were you two doing anyway?”

He shrugged, “Talking.”

His sister narrowed her eyes, “Just talking…?”

Thankfully, Edelgard spoke up and directed attention away from the professor, “I never thought I’d say this… but I believe Claude’s story. In fact, it reminds me of something; I have heard tales of countless passages snaking beneath Garreg Mach. This is undoubtedly one of them.”

Dimitri looked thoughtful, “Perhaps so… in any case, there is no telling where it leads.”

“Oh no. Oh, you’re right!” Claude declared suddenly, “There’s no telling what we could find. Terrible danger, wicked creatures, unspeakable smells! The risk is too high, Your Highnesses, I must humbly insist that you wait here, where it’s safe… and smells nice.”

The group stared at the golden noble, who quickly grabbed Byriel by the hand and gave a smile to the others, “Meanwhile, Teach and I will track down the bandit-shaped person. IF we don’t return, do me a favor and call for the knights, will ya?”

Byleth’s hand shot forward, grabbing her brother’s remaining hand and pulling him tightly backwards. She had a scowl on her face, “You’re not taking my brother in there without me.”

Byriel returned the look, “You’re no fun.”

“That is quite enough,” Edelgard crossed her arms and glared at the golden noble, “As though we would allow you to make that call on your own. With so little information, it’s far too dangerous. We’ll come along as well, right Dimitri?”

The prince smiled, “Yes, of course. If it was indeed a thief, we must not allow them to get away with their crime. Considering what took place at the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth, vigilance is paramount.”

Claude sighed and let go of Byriel’s hand, much to his internal dismay, “Alright, well, tag along if you insist. Just don’t come crying to me if we all meet a terrible fate, deal?”

“Likewise,” Edelgard looked to their small group, “Well, no use dallying. Let’s be on our way, unless there’s someone else we should call for?”

Byriel bit the inside of his cheek, “The four of us should suffice fine, but we should bring more allies just to be safe.”

Dimitri nodded, “Yes, a fine idea. Though at this time, I fear few of our classmates are still awake.”

“Whoa there!” A female voice chidded from behind the group. The five of them turned to see Hilda walk down the steps, followed by a very eager-looking Ashe and very tired-looking Linhardt.

“What’s all this, Professor?” Hilda looked to Byriel, “You two and the three house leaders creeping around at night? Pretty shady, if you ask me.”

“It’s certainly a rare and unexpected sighting…” Ashe agreed, “Especially considering the hour.”

“Looks like a whole lot of something is about to happen,” Linhardt yawned, “I’m going back to bed…”

“Stop right there, Linhardt,” Edelgard shook her head, halting the tired student from leaving, “Your bad luck is our good fortune. You’re coming with us.”

Claude gave a sly wink to the pink-haired student, “You can stop thinking of ways out of this, Hilda. We could use your help too.”

“You as well, Ashe,” Dimitri grinned at his fellow Blue Lion classmate, “I’ll explain everything on the way.”

Hilda let out a whine of protest while Ashe’s smile widened, “Happy to help! We don’t have anything better to do at this hour, so we may as well pitch in.”

“You have our gratitude,” Dimitri looked to the group and then to Byleth, ‘Now then, let us be on our way. Ready, Professor?”

Byleth nodded, adjusting the sword at her belt. Byriel knew immediately by the shape of the hilt that it was the Sword of the Creator. Just standing close to it sent a sickening sensation up his spine, as if a colony of spiders was traveling up his back.

He stepped closer to Claude, as far as he could get from the blade without being too far from his sister.

“The more the merrier, I suppose,” Claude shrugged, resigning to the group efforts, “Let’s just hope we’re not all marching to our doom…”

Byriel nodded, staring at the passageway intently. Dimitri and Byleth took the first steps towards it, followed by Edelgard and their other members. As Byriel took a step towards the gap, Claude quickly grabbed the professor’s hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Stay close, alright?” He whispered, “I’d like us to make it back and maybe continue with our ‘stakeouts’.”

The former mercenary felt a warm buzz of energy run through his body, and he nodded, “Y-Yes…”

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

Yuri

╚═════════ ∘◦ ♟ ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ While Yuri knew that the ragtag band of attackers were students at the academy, he wasn’t expecting them to get very far. _ The Ashen Wolves were not a force to be undermined, and they had destroyed every other threat that dared to show it’s face to Abyss with ease. If the traps didn’t get to them first, then they would be able to easily take the rest down.

To his surprise, they did manage further than he thought. Enough that where he was standing, he saw them take down Constance with ease and force her to retreat. Yuri tightened his grip on his sword as the first attacker advanced forward; the male twin from before.

The house leader smirked, “Well, what have we here? Some lost kids stumbling around in the dark. Stay awhile, won’t you?”

The male twin frowned, and looked as if he were genuinely considering it as if it were a real offer, “I mean, I would if this were any other day.”

Yuri snorted a laugh, “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

He shrugged, “You don’t want to fight me.”

The Ashen Wolf leader withdrew his sword, “Shame indeed not to have a bit of fun with each other while we’ve got the chance, you know?”

Yuri lunged for him, swiping at the air. The male twin had only a brief moment to react, escaping with just a scratch as the blade cut through fabric. He scowled at Yuri, and then he raised his hands.

“I warned you.” He stated bluntly as his hands ignited with flames.

The house leader moved quickly, but he felt the heat graze his back as a ball of fire smashed against the bricks behind him.

“Stay away from him!” A woman yelled, and Yuri looked up just in time to see the female twin run at him.

She had a sword in her hands, one that glowed with a red-hot, strange power. Before his eyes, the sword broke apart into a whip-like weapon and cut through the air. Right as Yuri realized that it was the Sword of the Creator, he felt a force slam into his chest and threw him backwards and to the ground.

Having taken similar blows in the past, he rolled with the landing and got back on his feet. There was a dull pain in his ribs, not quite broken, but it was enough to stagger his breathing.

“Hah… maybe I got a bit too carried away.” He huffed.

The male twin looked to his sister, “Hold yourself back a bit, will you?”

She scowled, “Why? So you can flirt with the enemy some more?”

Her brother’s cheeks went bright pink as he glared at her, “No-!”

Before they could argue further, the one named Claude stepped forward and lazily played with an arrow in his fingers, “It’s safe to say we’ve won this round, don’t you think? Uh… “B,” was it?”

“The name’s Balthus!” The grappler came back into the light, looking somewhat haggard from the beating he probably got from the group, “I don’t lose often, but I can at least recognize what it looks like.”

The pink-haired girl looked thoughtful, “Balthus… Balthus… BALTHUS?! From House Albrecht?! Baltie, is that you?! Whew, haha! You look, uh… old.”

Everyone’s attention immediately went to her. Claude gaped at her, “Wait, you know this guy?!”

“Huh? Do we know each other, pal?” Balthus stared at her for a long moment, then his eyes went wide, “Wait a minute… that hair. Those eyes. That voice! Hilda?! I don’t believe it! Holst’s little sis?!”

What remaining tension in the room flickered and died out like a candle as the rest of the Ashen Wolves emerged from their spots in the shadows. Yuri brushed the dirt off his shirt and looked to their attackers, all of them withdrawing their weapons.

Balthus had a large grin on his face, “I don’t believe it, little Hilda herself! Why didn’t you speak up sooner?”

Hilda scowled at the grappler, “Baltie, this isn’t the time to catch up. What would Holst think?! I bet you didn’t consider that, did you?”

The grappler hesitated, fear flashing across his face briefly, “Yeesh… I dunno but it wouldn’t be nice.”

Yuri smirked a bit at the idea. He had never met the famous hero, but he had heard stories about Holst from Balthus. He could imagine that the sight wouldn’t be pretty, but it could be entertaining in some way.

Regardless, Yuri was somewhat grateful that his friend had managed to defuse what could’ve otherwise turned into a much bloodier fight.

The pink haired warrior glared at Balthus, and then he caved, “Look, sorry, Okay? Just don’t tell Holst, if he knew I raised a hand against you, he’d have my head.”

“Ha! Like he’d stop at your head! Fine though, just this once and just for you, I’ll keep quiet.”

Claude grinned, “Well, now that that’s sorted, what did you mean about it being lucky that you found me?”

“Oh, that,” Balthus shrugged, “One of the guys I owe gold to is Count Gloucester. He said something about forgiving my debt if I could dig up some dirt on you. Figured this was my shot.”

The golden noble sighed, “Aha, so it was purely selfish. But then, was a fight really necessary?”

The grappler grinned, “Really was. Best way to acquaint yourself with someone is to get into a tussle with ‘em. That’s common sense right there.”

The female twin nodded, “That makes sense.”

Her brother gave her a look, “No, it doesn’t.”

Yuri smirked a bit, “Well, that’s the correct response for a reasonable person. We’re not all as far gone as Balthus here.”

“Say what you will, but I learned all I need to know!” The grappler looked to the house leader, “It’s clear this lot has nothing to do with the church’s intentions, but that means those other creeps could always attack us at any moment.”

“Who would attack you?” The male twin asked.

Balthus frowned, “Someone’s targeting Abyss. Mercenaries keep sniffing around and causing trouble here. They won’t let up.”

Yuri shook his head, “It’s a real problem, and we have no clue who’s pulling the strings. There are many within the church who would love to see this “filthy” underground city purged.”

He set his gaze on the male twin, “When you first showed up, we thought you were here to do just that. Apologies for the confusion.”

The twin nodded, “No hard feelings. Oh, I’m Byriel Eisner, by the way. And that’s Byleth, my younger sister.”

She shook her head, “You are not the older twin here.”

Yuri smiled a bit, glad to have a name to put to a face, “Byriel Eisner… interesting name.”

Hilda looked to the Ashen Wolf leader, “So that’s why you came at us with that nasty “kill the outsiders” act.”

Hapi stretched out a bit, “As Yuri-bird said, we’re sorry. We’re all pretty on edge these days.”

“Indeed!” Constance huffed, “That someone would descend to Abyss out of pure curiosity was far too outlandish to consider.”

“What is the purpose of Abyss?” Byleth asked.

“No idea,” Balthus admitted, “These tunnels have been around for ages. They could be older than the monastery for all we know.”

“None remain who know the complete truth,” Constance smiled at the group “However, I shall tell you all that we know for certain; Abyss is home to those who shun the light of day. It is the secret shadow of Garreg Mach, if you will.”

“The church quietly tolerates us. They think they need a place like this for Garreg Mach to thrive.” Hapi stated it bitterly.

“The deal is simple,” Yuri explained, “Abyssians never get involved with the surface, and the surface never gets involved with us.”

“Alas! For some foul reason, surface dwellers have been after us of late,” Constance spat angrily, “Further oppressing those souls who can only find solace beneath the ground? I cannot abide it! Though it pains me to admit, we, too, harbor valid reasons for not venturing into the light. That is why, by the grace of our esteemed patron, we have been granted sanctuary here in Abyss.”

The group seemed quiet for a moment, letting everything sink in.

“I see…” Hilda looked to the grappler, “Baltie, does that mean you’ve got a reason for being here too?”

He sighed, “Afraid so, Hilda. I’m here because… there are more bounties on my head than there is hair. Needed to lay low. Real low.”

“Baltie… that’s awful.” The pink haired noble turned her back to him.

As much as he enjoyed standing around a dark cavern talking to a bunch of strangers, it dawned on Yuri that it wasn’t the safest place for a bunch of surface dwellers to linger around.

“Enough with the niceties,” Yuri looked to his fellow classmates, “Let’s get these surface dwellers out of here.”

Constance spun on him, “Nonsense! Intolerable nonsense! Whyever would we let slip this chance to acquire their aid?”

“You need our help?” Byriel asked.

“Like we said, recently this place is being targeted by mercenaries,” Balthus cracked one of his knuckles, “Myself excluded, a lot of the folks who live here can’t defend themselves. They’re here to avoid conflict. The elderly, the infirm, orphans, lost souls, merchants who were chewed up and spit out by the nobility, the works.”

“It rests upon us to protect those who cannot protect themselves and to safeguard our home.” Constance smiled, “To that noble end, I must insist that you lend us your strength!”

The princely one, who had been listening to everything quietly and intently up until now, spoke up finally, “I feel for you cause, truly. However, I cannot help but wonder why you would trust us so readily. We are from the surface, after all.”

Yuri looked right at the two Eisner twins, “Trust is a choice. We’re  _ choosing  _ to trust you, for now. It’s clear you’re not here by the command of the church. And you’re not just a bunch of noble twerps, either. You can hold your own, it’s in the way you fight. How you carry yourselves.”

Though while he said it, he couldn’t help but look at the sword in the sheath of Byleth Eisner’s sword. With power like that, they could protect their home easier.

The Ashen Wolf leader frowned, “Still, I’m reluctant to get you involved with this madness. It’s our problem, not yours.”

Hapi shrugged, “It’s too late now. We already told them everything, so let’s at least give them a chance to decide for themselves.”

“Most true,” Constance looked to her companions, then to their potential allies, “Wander about Abyss for a time and I am certain you will come to the only correct conclusion.”

“Right, what she said!” Balthus moved closer to the group of surface dwellers, “Take a look, think some thoughts. Consider yourselves our special guests.”

They looked at one another, thinking it over.

“I see no harm in it,” The silver-haired noble lady said, “What about you, Dimitri?”

The princely student, Dimitri, nodded, “I see no harm. Professors?”

“Yeah sure.” Byriel and Byleth stated at the same time.

It didn’t take too long after they said it for the rest of their group to agree. With it settled, they all walked through the shadows and tunnels, passing through the familiar roads and into the heart of Garreg Mach’s underworld.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: We're back! Sorry for the long hiatus, some real-life stuff happened in regards to medical things and other complicated things we won't get into. Thank you all for your patience, and we're very excited to continue working again on Gilded Sanctuary!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this longer chapter, and we'll see you soon!  
:D


	36. Chapter 35: Crow's Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: gaslighting and someone loses an eye

꧁ ⋅ Chapter Thirty-Five ⋅ ꧂

✦ ⋅ Crow’s Feast ⋅ ✦

Anacharsis

╚═════════ ∘◦  👁 ◦∘ ═════════╝

_ The doctor had been waiting for a while now. _ There had been a guard, and he said that there would be someone who would escort Anacharsis to the Agastya’s personal quarters, but there wasn’t much urgency in their tone or actions.

So Anacharsis was resolved to just standing in the main entrance to Thale’s temple, standing off to the sides to avoid being knocked into by people coming and going. Given what today was, there was a constant wave of people moving throughout this place. It was the heart of their city, afterall; a stately built temple built more like a fortress-palace than a place of worship with marble and metal columns holding up painted, dome-like ceilings. 

Similar to the cathedral in Garreg Mach, there were benches lined in rows and various people sitting and praying. But unlike Garreg Mach there was no trace of the goddess, and instead there were carefully carved marble statues of the Ten Saints who aided the King of Liberation in his defeat of the goddess. They were huge, and their blank eyes stared down at the people who left offerings at their base in the forms of candles and flowers, but the most impressive statue was at the very front of the cathedral, the first one that anyone saw when they entered; a staggeringly large statue of the King of Liberation himself, holding a mighty sword and looking victorious in battle.

It looked so disturbingly realistic that it gave Anacharsis the creeps.

The same guard returned and wordlessly gestured for Anacharsis to follow, which he did quickly and quietly. They entered deeper into the temple, walking past Agarthans alike and into the shadows of the side halls where very few people were allowed to enter. Furthest away from this sacred place, locked behind large decorated metal doors and guarded by two enormous Titanus machines, was a large iron cage that waited for the doctor in an empty room hung by a chain.

Anacharsis entered the cage alone, and the guard was the one to shut and lock the door, and pull back the lever next to it. There was a groan of chains, and then the cage rose at a steady pace that made Anacharsis’s stomach drop. He hated the hoists, as they were called by the other Agarthans, he could never escape the fear that the chains would suddenly break and send it plummeting down to the ground below. Still, he had to marvel a little at the technology; it was an incredible creation that made transportation easier for people carrying heavy cargo or traveling between floors of a building faster without taking the stairs.

Still, what if it broke at some point and sent him plummeting to his death?

Thales had an apartment built specifically for the reigning Agastya deeper within the the fortress-like palace, and it was not a place for just anyone to enter. When the hoist came to a stop, there was another guard waiting at the top to open the door and to look Anacharsis over.

“You’re the doctor, yes?” He asked gruffly.

He nodded, quickly rolling up the sleeve, showing the brand on his left forearm. The pain from the mark had faded a long time ago, leaving the skin ragged and ugly around the black lines of the eye and spire symbol of his citizenship in this city. Beneath it were his name, position in Thales’s eyes, and his bloodline written in an ancient language he had only ever seen in Shambhala’s walls

Anacharsis cleared his throat nervously, “I won’t be too long. I just need to deliver my report…”

The guard read over the clean lines quickly and nodded, moving aside for Anacharsis to pass through the double metal doors into Thales’s personal quarters.

“His Grace is in a meeting with an ally,” The guard warned, “Best you not interupt them.”

Anacharsis would’ve loved nothing more than to retreat, but he also knew that it would probably be worse if he just waited longer. So, steeling what little resolve he had, Anacharsis pushed the metal doors open and entered the apartment.

The doctor figured that the private home to the Agastya of Shambhala would be lavish, so he was surprised to see how normal the room seemed. At least, normal for a holy man. The floor was a polished granite, cleaned to the point where Anacharsis could faintly see his reflection in the ground. The walls were stone as well, and with the exception of a few carved marble columns holding up the rounded ceiling, the structure was almost simple.

Even the furniture seemed relatively normal, not simple by any means, but nothing he was expecting for some kind of high priest drawing room; in the middle of the room was a large mahogany table surrounded by similarly crafted chairs. There was a fireplace, but it was unlit and only had ashes in the hearth, leaving the room very cold.

No sign of Thales and there weren’t any sounds he could hear to indicate someone else being here. Anacharsis walked carefully into the room and looked a little; there were large bookshelves surrounding the room, all of them lined in ancient texts and volumes in different languages. Some of them Anacharsis recognized, but most of them he didn’t know. There were other doors made of metal that likely led to other rooms, but when the doctor carefully pulled at them they were locked.

Lastly, Anacharsis looked at the large table in the middle of the room; in the center of the table was a detailed map of Fódlan, carved out of wood in such detail that he could make out things like the great bridge over Myrddin, the heavy walls surrounding Fort Merceus, right down to Enbarr’s palace and Garreg Mach’s structure. The doctor could see different places marked in red though, all over the map. Most were collected in the mountains of Hyrm, where Shambhala was located clearly, but there were also bigger tabs marked down in places like the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and the City of Enbarr, but also in the territory that Anacharsis thought was Arundel.

As he looked closer, he heard the door suddenly open and he jumped. Thales entered the room, but he was followed by someone that Anacharsis had never seen before; an older man with long scarlet hair and an eyepatch.

Thales, pale and intimidating as usual, looked at Anacharsis sternly, “You’ve returned late.”

The doctor bowed shakily, “F-Forgive me, I had to travel on foot for most of the journey.”

Thales frowned, “It would be in your best interest to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, your Grace.”

The older man looked to the Agastya and gave him a smile, “Come now, old friend. Even with a wyvern such as Bucephalus, the journey is a long one.”

Thales shook his head, “So be it. I apologize, Chilon, but I must speak to this one alone.”

“Understood,” The man bowed briefly, “We shall speak again soon.”

“I hope you will change your mind and join my side at the feast.” Thales crossed his arms, causing the man to chuckle.

Without another word, the older man walked past the doctor and left him to the mercy of a clearly frustrated Thales. In the low light given by the torches on the walls, his features looked sharper and his skin paler. He almost seemed out of place in such a simple room, adorned in his armor and feathered cloak, and it made Anacharsis feel so much smaller than he already was.

“I assume your journey was not a smooth one.” Thales stated, gesturing to the doctor’s still purple eye.

Anacharsis swallowed nervously, “It-It was a minor dispute with a bandit…”

The Agastya’s hand glowed with a pale light, and with a raise of his hand there was a similar feeling in Anacharsis’s face as the pain began to ebb away. Gingerly, he touched the skin under his eye, confused.

“Why…?”

“I am Shambhala’s leader, I have a sworn duty to protect its residents,” Thales turned his back to the doctor and approached the table in the center of the room, “This includes you, Anacharsis.”

The doctor hesitated, feeling off-balance and confused. He thought about what Valence had said, about how Thales had just sent him to the monastery to die, and felt even more confused.

“I would assume your time spent in Garreg Mach would have provided you with useful information?” Thales spoke up, not looking at the doctor.

“I-” Anacharsis flinched, “I-I couldn’t gain anything useful.”

“And Valence?”

The doctor felt his stomach churn, “He did his own investigating.”

“Why is he not with you?”

Anacharsis was trembling, “H-He didn’t want to come back…”

Thales looked over his shoulder and glared at the doctor with soulless eyes, “I specifically ordered you both to return.”

“I’m sorry-” Anacharsis panicked, “He said he was keeping an eye on someone, but I have his report!”

“Then  _ speak _ .”

The doctor felt like he just shrunk more in his skin, “The Western Church failed-”

“I am already aware of that,” Thales moved something on the large map, “Not that I had ever placed much faith in those swine. Continue your report.”

Anacharsis hesitated, “Seiros’s remains weren’t in the tomb-”

“The Sword of the Creator was there instead,” Thales sounded annoyed, “And those professors can wield it without the Crest stone.”

The doctor blinked, “How do you know about that already?”

“I have my connections,” Thales turned to face the doctor, “Regardless, I don't wish to hear Valence's report, I want to hear  _ your _ report, Anacharsis. What have  _ you  _ gathered?”

Anacharsis felt his stomach sink, “It’s not much. The archbishop keeps to herself often, and her advisor never leaves her side. She also has a knight that wields Thunderbrand and a few other people… she’s well-guarded and her defense is perfect.”

Thales looked unimpressed, “No human can build a perfect defense. Not unlike us and Shambhala’s imperative walls. The archbishop has a weakness, you just have yet to find it.”

Anacharsis flinched, “I-”

“If I didn’t know any better,” the Agastya’s eyes were watching the doctor carefully, “I would have guessed that you were hesitant to kill the archbishop.”

“I-!” He blurted, panicking, “I can’t just do something so serious that fast-!”

“Are you not loyal to Shambhala? To your own kind?!”

“Of course I am!”

“Then I expect you to prove it!” Thales snapped, “Unless you are every part the imperfection I took you for when you first came here, and will do nothing but hinder our plans!”

Anacharsis felt his eyes burn and hung his head, holding back any tears that might try to escape. Tears meant weakness in Thales’s eyes.

The Agastya frowned, and his expression almost softened, “Anacharsis, why can’t you understand that I am harsh with you because there is no room for errors here.”

His throat felt dry, “I made a promise to never take a person’s life…”

The head Agarthan stared at the doctor for a moment. Then he approached one of his bookshelves and picked up a dark oak box from one of the taller shelves. With deft fingers, the Agastya opened the lid and revealed a silver arrow resting in the center of it.

“Break this.” Thales ordered, holding the box out for Anacharsis to reach.

“Huh?”

“ _ Break _ the arrow.”

Anacharsis hesitated, but the cold glare from Thales pushed him to take the surprisingly heavy arrow from the box and attempt to bend it. He knew he wasn’t physically strong, not like Periander or Valence, but he couldn’t even so much as bend the arrow. He tried, taking both ends and pulling back as hard as he could, but the arrow felt as if it were made of stone.

“I-I can’t…” He said, defeated.

Thales nodded, “Do you know why?”

“No…?” The doctor put the arrow back in it’s box.

“This was crafted by one of our ancestors, who took the design from one of Saint Macuil’s deadly weapons,” Thales explained, “The Goddess and her monstrous children were intelligent enough to create powerful weapons, but we were much more cunning and created something stronger.”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with anything…?”

Thales sighed, shaking his head, “Anacharsis, we are on the brink of a war. Inevitably, you will need to stain your hands with blood if you are to survive to the end of it. To whom did you even make such an unreasonable promise to?”

The doctor didn’t respond, but he didn’t have to as Thales’s expression went grim with thinly-veiled anger.

“I would’ve hoped you had abandoned that mindset by now, Anacharsis. You owe no promises to those humans, they are dead.”

Anacharsis clasped his hands together, “Th-They said they-” _ _

_ They were my family. That they loved me. _

Thales scoffed a bit, “Are you still naive to the truth? Anacharsis, they were never your family; when the woman who gave birth to you stole you away from these walls, she was endangering our entire city. She endangered our entire kind by giving you to those monsters. Those  _ humans _ ,” he snarled the word, “And allowing you to believe that you were one of them for so long. She risked not only your life, but the lives of everyone in this city. It was a mistake to do something so careless; you are not a human, you are an Agarthan. To them, you are a monster.”

“Would you have killed me if she hadn’t?” His voice felt hollow, “Because I was born a mistake?”

He paused, immediately regretting that he had spoken those words. But surprisingly, the Agastya’s expression didn’t change. In fact, he almost looked amused.

“Do you think our race would’ve survived if we decided to keep every single flawed and ungifted child? You are too young and naive to have the knowledge of what it was like to claw through the dark to build this city. The lengths our kind had to go through for centuries to build the order we have now. We are  _ survivors _ , Anacharsis, and the ones who cannot must be left behind or risk slowing down the rest.”

The doctor was still.

“But you are also a survivor,” Thales continued, “You are very intelligent, and you even managed to become one of the five graduates. You’ve surpassed the expectations of most and have a promising future in my court. But if you are to have a future at all, then you must be like this arrow, and you must not break.”

The doctor felt dazed and confused, as if he had just taken another beating from Valence. What was Thales even trying to imply? He hated Anacharsis, didn’t he? That was certain, so why bother pretending that he even wanted to have a conversation with him at all?

“I expect you to keep that in mind when you return to Garreg Mach and carry out your mission properly,” Thales clasped his hands together, “Leave whatever sympathies you had for the human world behind, and do what is necessary for our kind to survive. Find the archbishop's weakness, and strike it.”

Anacharsis hung his head, feeling drained, “Yes, your Grace…”

“Good,” The Agastya looked pleased, “I have high hopes that you won’t disappoint me this time.”

_ Will I be executed if I do? _

As the doctor turned to leave, Thales spoke up again, “Remember these words tonight at the feast, Anacharsis.”

He froze, “Oh no, no I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Anacharsis turned back to the head Agarthan, “I was going to leave tonight… it’s a long journey back to the monastery.”

Thales shook his head, “Nonsense, you are one of the five graduates. It would be a disappointment if you didn’t appear.”

“I’m not really one for parties…” The doctor protested quietly, “A-And I don’t really have anything nice to wear…”

“That can be easily arranged. There will be a delivery at your apartment within the next few hours,” Thales raised an eyebrow at the doctor, “Unless you are not loyal to your kind and the court?”

“I-I am…” Anacharsis swallowed nervously. His throat felt incredibly dry, as if he had eaten a fistful of sand.

“Then I expect you to be there and to sit with your fellow graduates. This is an opportunity to make an impression on the most powerful members of Shambhala, so you best be present and polite.” 

Before he could protest, Thales waved him off dismissively and the guard opened the door to lead him out and back to the cage. Anacharsis felt his stomach sink; the last thing he wanted to do was to sit with his fellow “graduates” and pretend like they were all friends. The only one he could really trust was Periander, who he didn’t even know was alive or dead as a result of his mission, but he hadn’t even spoken more than three words to the other three.

But still, he had a feeling that he had no choice in this matter.

꧁ ⋅ ✦ ⋅ ꧂

_ The city bells rang out seven times, acting as the only indication of the time on the surface above. _ Time was difficult to distinguish in a place with no sunlight, but from what Anacharsis had heard from his days studying that there was a complex series of mirrors and sundials that gave the bell ringers an idea of what time was above them.

As the last ring died down, the doctor fidgeted with the sleeves of the long emerald coat he had found in his neglected apartment amidst the dust and spider webs. Along with it he had also been gifted a new tailored pair of dark pants, a soft tunic, and a delicately embroidered sash that had now become the nicest pair of clothes he owned. He just wished that they hadn’t been given to him in these circumstances.

Anacharsis stared up at Thales’s temple; there were already people milling about the front entrance, all of them adorned in richly-colored fabrics and glittering armors and talking eagerly. Despite it meaning to be a place of worship, it was closed off now to the public to host the large number of guests Thales had invited for the King’s Feast.

The doctor stood at the base of the steps, hesitating to join the rest and feeling more out of place than ever. However, with one quick glimpse at the area again, he spotted a much more welcome and familiar figure that pushed him to run up to. Periander was standing beneath one of the temple’s large columns, staring up at the doors with a sort of lazy curiosity. When the doctor got closer, he hesitated a bit; the assassin had brushed his unruly hair back and was wearing a rich violet uniform-like attire with a similar sash over his body, much more well-put together then he was the last time they had met.

Well-put together and beautiful, Anacharsis admitted to himself silently. Carefully, he walked up to Periander and coughed a bit to catch his attention without scaring him.

“You made it back from Enbarr alright?” He asked.

The Spider turned to the doctor, his pale eyes wide, “You’re here and not at Garreg Mach! Why is that?”

“I didn’t really have a choice…” Anacharsis clasped his hands together nervously, “I’m just here to deliver a report, but Thales asked me to come here.”

Periander frowned, scrunching up his nose, “Ah, I see I’m not the only one who was strong-armed into this. This whole event is nothing but an insult to the Goddess, and if Thales weren’t my only means of escaping this cursed city I would be half-way to Dagda by now.”

“I know,” the doctor spoke quietly, afraid someone might overhear them, “But we just have to stay for a bit, just long enough for Thales to toast the graduates, then we can leave.”

Periander scowled, “Who did that to your eye?”

He timidly ran a finger over the bruise, “Peri, it’s alright. It looks worse than it feels.”

“Was it Valence? I heard that that abomination was hiding amidst the guards of Garreg Mach,” The assassin’s hands shook, “He dares to soil the holy grounds of the Goddess and lay a finger on you… I will send him to the Eternal Flames with my bare hands-!”

“Periander, no-!” Anacharsis grabbed the assassin by his sleeves, “Please, don’t do that! Just leave it, I’m begging you!”

The assassin’s scowl deepened, “You’re my closest and most treasured friend! How am I to just stand by idly and watch you return to me with more bruises and wounds?”

The doctor hung his head, “I know… but I don’t want you to get into trouble for something like this. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

Periander’s expression softened, “The feeling is mutual, Charsis…”

For a moment, neither Agarthan said anything. The crowds around them began to shift as the doors to the temple were opened and people moved to enter. After a few more moments of quiet, enough for most of the crowds to disappear inside, Anacharsis took in a deep breath, “Let’s not talk about this here. We can do that later when this whole mess is over, okay?”

The Spider was displeased, but he relented and extended his arm to the smaller doctor. After a moment of hesitation, Anacharsis looped his arm with Periander’s and let the taller man drag him along through the doors.

As silly as the gesture must’ve looked, it oddly gave the doctor a feeling of comfort having someone close to face what was to come next.

Following the crowds, they walked through the now empty shrines to the saints and entered a much more stately area resembling a palace courtyard. Archways of vines dotted with dark purple blossoms towered over the groups, and the way was lined with trees with bark the color of ivory and golden leaves. Agarthans milled about the large area, all of them talking and laughing while servants dressed in stone-colored uniforms wandered around, silently offering up platters of small treats and wine.

It wasn’t even a few moments of narrowly escaping the crowds and moving under one of the pale trees that one of the servants approached the two with a silver plate lined with crystal goblets filled to the brim with a blood-red liquid.

“Elderflower wine, sir?” The servant asked softly.

Anacharsis hesitated, not being one for alcohol but feeling thirsty after neglecting to eat or drink all day, but Periander took two of the glasses and passed one to his friend.

“To the Goddess and our health?” He asked once the servant moved on.

The doctor shrugged and raised the glass slightly, “To the Goddess and our health… ”

They both drank, the wine tasting thick and heavily fragranced. Anacharsis resisted the urge to gag while Periander almost completely drank it all in one gulp.”

“Don’t drink it too fast,” the doctor warned, “You don’t want to get sick.”

“I would much rather be drunk,” Periander stated, “Besides, better to be occupied with this instead of some of those other appetizers.”

Anacharsis cringed at the thought, feeling his stomach churn spotting another servant carrying a plate lined with bird hearts, an apparent luxury for the higher classes, that other Agarthans picked off with enthusiasm.

Pulling his attention away, the doctor and assassin pushed their way through the shifting crowds and up a set of marble and granite stairs to a large open atrium lined with dozens of tables shielded beneath stone roofs held up by aging columns. At the furthest end, the floor was raised up more than the rest and the table there was occupied by, of course, Thales and his closest allies.

People were already starting to take their seats, so Periander and Anacharsis quickly made their way to the table set for graduates. To the doctor’s dread, it was one of the closest places to Thales’s platforms. The two of them were immediately spotted by Thales, who said nothing to them but watched the two take their seats. Worse still was that someone else was already sitting at their section, wearing the same sash as them over a very tight-fitting black assassin’s uniform.

Kronya smiled at the two of them as they sat opposite from the assassin, “Well, if it isn’t the doctor and his pet spider! You’re still alive, I see.”

Periander stared at her, “Unholy shapeshifter. You continue to breathe.”

Anacharsis squeezed his friend’s arm, motioning him to mind his manners, “He-He’s just really hungry! Peri says the strangest things when he’s hungry!”

Kronya smirked at the assassin, “I don’t mind. It’s nice to see that your odd friend managed to pull himself away from the gravestones to join the rest of us.”

The Spider kept staring at her as if he were about to pounce across the table at her. But before he could do anything of the sort, another servant approached the table and placed a fresh glass of wine down for the assassin while refilling Anacharsis and Periander’s to the brim.

“Do-Do you know where the others are?” The doctor asked, looking to the two empty seats next to them.

The assassin shrugged, “Not my problem to watch over the little girl and ice queen.”

“Know your place, last slot,” A higher-pitched female voice cut the air, “My youth is little more than a tangent.”

Kronya scowled as the second-place graduate sat next to Periander. Pittacus was much shorter than the rest of the group, so much so that her feet dangled above the ground as she made herself comfortable. 

Anacharsis looked over to the girl, who was wearing a bright pink war cleric’s dress without the armor and had her hair up in two buns on either side of her head, and felt his breath freeze in his chest.

“Y-Your hair…!”

He remembered the little girl, the youngest in Agarthan history to have graduated from their academy, had hair the color of bright pink roses. Now there was a mix of silver dusted through her locks like frost.

Pittacus smiled at him, “Like it? The second crest is settling quite nicely. Myson predicts that it shouldn’t take more than another week for it to be completely white.”

Periander frowned, “You took up their offer then.”

The little girl raised her chin proudly, “Naturally."

Kronya took a sip of wine, “Careful not to bite off more than you can chew, brat.”

Pittacus smirked at the assassin, “If you were as powerful as I am, you could’ve also been gifted with a second crest.”

"I'm not so weak I even  _ need _ a second crest." Kronya threw back.

The doctor felt a chill go down his back, “B-But won’t your life be-?”

The smirk turned to a sweet-looking smile when she looked at him, “Haven’t you learned by now not to underestimate me, Ana? I’m not like those weak humans, you know.”

Kronya rolled her eyes, “Whatever. Where’s the ice queen?”

Pittacus traced a circle over the rim of her own goblet, though it was filled with a golden drink that smelled more like peaches, “She’s probably conversing with her fiance’s family or something. How lucky to be the future wife to one of the most powerful generals in Shambhala…”

Anacharsis looked at Thales's table; sitting with the Agastya was the red-haired man from before, who was smiling a little as he took a drink from his own glass. Next to him was Syn, pale and dressed in gremory robes seemingly made from raven feathers. Her ink-colored eyes briefly glanced over at the graduate table, but not for long as it went back to the red-haired man. No Myson though. Maybe he was late?

“Who is that man with bloody hair?” Periander asked.

Kronya shrugged, “Not really sure. Thales has been speaking to him a lot though.”

“Uneducated cretins. That man is one of the most feared warriors of our history. Chilon the Wraith.” Pittacus said plainly, as if it were common knowledge.

“Why do they call him the Wraith?” Anacharsis asked timidly.

The little girl smiled, “If I told you that, it’d give you more to scream over in the dead of night more than you already do, Ana.”

Kronya snickered at the comment while Anacharsis felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

Periander glared at the girl, trailing his fingers over a fork placed on the table, “Watch your mouth before I squash you, shrimp.”

“Care to test that? I’ve been wanting to test out my newest weapon. You’d make an excellent training dummy, spider.”

Another chair scraped back as the last member of their table joined silently in between Anacharsis and Kronya, pulling attention away from the building fight.

“Apologies for the delay, I had to finish up duties for my father,” Cleobulina, the first graduate, looked to the group, “Seems like I’ve missed out on an interesting conversation.”

The last member of their group, Lady Cleobulina as others called her, was a picture of regality. She wore a dark, rich blue uniform and had her violet hair down, and she stared at everyone as if she were analyzing them constantly.

She gave Anacharsis the chills even now being under the intensity of her gaze.

Pittacus scowled, “Nothing the likes of you would be interested in.”

The graduate shrugged and tucked a long strand of dark violet hair behind an ear, “Try me, second-place brat.”

The war cleric’s expression turned murderous, causing Periander to laugh loudly while Kronya’s eyes lit up with glee at the prospect of a fight.

Anacharsis noticed that Thales was getting up and quickly blurted, “L-Look the speech is starting, pay attention!”

The table went quiet, turning their attention to the Agastya as he stood up from his table. He was holding a golden goblet in his hand, and he smiled at the tables of guests before him.

“Welcome,” the Agastya’s voice carried over the crowds, “Fellow warriors, educators, friends and allies, graduates. I personally welcome you all to my home, and I give you my thanks for joining me in celebration of one of the most important marks in our kind’s history.

“Today is a day of celebration, of remembrance, and most importantly, a day of revolution against the tyranny of Sothis and her children. It was on this day so long ago that we declared our freedom and independence under the guiding hands of our savior, the King of Liberation.”

The man Pittacus had called Chilon shifted in his seat, his expression looking deadly serious.

“Though we were shunned from the sunlight above, we thrived in glorious industrial development. We crafted the mighty walls of Shambhala, built up powerful armies and weapons, and created our glorious empire. An empire that will once again reach the light above, and take back what is ours again. The time for waiting is coming to an end, my allies and friends in arms. We will march upon the world above, and we will emerge as victors.”

Thales raised his goblet, signalling everyone else to do the same, “I offer you all a toast. A toast to our glory and to our future. A toast to the friends we have here and the ones who’ve given their lives to our cause, and to our graduates that will continue our legacy. As one, we will all take back our home upon the surface, and we will eradicate the remnants of the tyrant Sothis. They will face the wrath of the Agarthans, and we will emerge in glorious victory!”

The area erupted into cheers and applause at the words, which Anacharsis attempted to match in enthusiasm but couldn’t quite bring himself to, and several new servants began moving through the tables and crowds carrying large dishes of warm food.

“Tonight, let us eat, drink, and celebrate today,” Thales concluded, “For it marks not only our history, but a part of who we are.”

The Agastya took a sip of wine and rejoined the table with his allies. At some point, Myson had slipped into his seat next to Chilon and was talking. Though the doctor couldn’t help but notice that there were four empty seats still. One of them was directly next to Thales’s chair, suggesting someone important was meant to sit there.

“Valence isn’t here again.” Cleobulina stated as a servant brought in new platters of food.

“Of course he isn’t,” Kronya leaned back in her seat, “He hasn’t been to any of these events in the last four years. Thales is furious about it, you know.”

“What about the other two?” Anacharsis asked as a plate was put in front of him.

Cleobulina looked thoughtful, her gold eyes narrowed, “I know one of them is meant to be for Bias and Solon. But they have important duties elsewhere, if I recall correctly, so they were both pardoned to miss this.”

“Why send that sobbing mess on anything important?” Pittacus asked behind her cup.

“She’s a good spy, always has been,” Kronya shrugged, “Even I know that. Maybe Thales gave her something to do after getting sick of her wailing constantly over some dead lover.”

“And the last chair?” Periander picked at the food on his plate absent-mindedly.

The first graduate shook her head, “I don’t know, unfortunately. My father claims that it was put there out of the blue a while ago, but Thales never said why. Maybe it’s in case he ever gets married?”

Kronya laughed, “I doubt anyone would want to marry a grumpy old man like him! No, if anyone would sit next to him, it would have to be someone he views as his equal. No one alive can match his level of power as the leader of the Agarthans, so it’s probably just there to prove no one can ever stand as his equal.”

Somehow, Anacharsis thought there probably was a bigger reason for it. But why Thales did anything was a mystery to the doctor. The servant placed a dish in front of him, and then mutely left the five to somewhat enjoy their meal. Their plates consisted of roasted mushrooms, salted beef and fish, and honey-soaked plum cakes.

The air was tense at the table all the while everyone slowly picked away at their plates, all while servants came back again and again to refill their barely-empty glasses with wine. None of the graduates were paying any attention to the doctor, so he remained silent with his thoughts.

_ I wish I was home instead of here. _

Though, wasn’t this supposed to be home?

“Ana?”

He turned his head in the direction of the nickname, “H-Huh?”

Cleobulina was staring at him, “Your work as a doctor. How is it of late?”

He straightened, glad to have something he could talk about, “U-Um, good! At the hospital, we were talking about prosthetics and the possibility of making them. If we get the designs right, a lot of people can go back to work again and… um…”

He trailed off, seeing that Kronya and Pittacus looked bored at his talking. He went quiet, feeling embarrassed. 

“Fascinating.” Kronya rolled her eyes.

Periander narrowed his gaze at the assassin, “And you have something more interesting to talk about?”

She smiled, “Thales has approached me with a new plan involving that prisoner we captured a year ago!”

“Prisoner?”

“Some noble girl, I think,” Kronya laughed, “Though I just need her face to get it done.”

Anacharsis felt a pit in his stomach, “Y-You’ll kill her then?”

“That’s how it works, so yes.”

Silence fell over the table, tense and uncomfortable, but then Pittacus laughed.

“At least someone found a job for a lesser Crest-wielder.”

Kronya scowled at the girl, “Careful, this lesser Crest-wielder is sitting with you at this table.”

“You got lucky.” Pittacus frowned.

“Minor Crest-bearers can be powerful, too…” Anacharsis piped up, “E-Even people without Crests can do a lot.”

The little girl pressed her lips into a thin line, “Papa says I shouldn’t talk to anyone without a Crest. That if I do, I’ll lose power.”

“Sounds like rubbish.” Cleobulina pointed out.

Pittacus scowled. But then she smiled and looked back to Anacharsis, “Speaking of Crests, which one was yours again?”

Anacharsis felt his throat go dry and quickly reached for his glass of wine, “G-Gloucester….”

The little girl tilted her head, “Is it? That’s odd though… I looked at your records, and it says you have the Crest of Dominic.”

The doctor choked on the heavy liquid, gagging and coughing violently. Immediately, Cleobulina and Kronya stared at him questioningly.

“He’s clearly had too much to drink!” Periander stated in an attempt to push a new conversation.

“Come on now, I’ve been curious,” Pittacus’s smile widened, “You’ve always been so secretive about that, and you became fourth place after that fight you had with Achilles. He was supposed to be here instead of you, but instead he’s dead and we have you. So, which is it?”

“I-I’ve been drinking too much, I should go-!” He choked.

“Aw, why don’t you stay?” Kronya’s grin was cruel, “We’re graduates, afterall. Might as well share with us more about yourself.”

“He doesn’t have to do that.” Periander snapped, his hand shooting under the table to grab at one of Anacharsis’s to squeeze for reassurance.

Pittacus tapped her fingers on the table, “Why so shy? You  _ do _ have a Crest, right?”

“I-I do-!” Anacharsis felt his heart pounding in his head.

“Leave the poor doctor alone, Pittacus,” Cleobulina spoke up with an eyeroll, much to the doctor’s surprise, “He’s already anxious and we don’t need you making it worse.”

The little girl scowled, but right as her mouth opened to come up with a retort of some kind, there was a loud screech from right next to them followed by a clatter of plates hitting the ground.

Everyone turned quickly to see Syn standing from her seat and a servant on the ground, shaking and apologizing profusely.

“You little wretch,” She hissed, “You dare to lay a scratch on me?!”

“F-Forgive me, my lady-!” The servant whimpered, they couldn’t be much older than Anacharsis was, “I-I was not looking where I was going-!”

“ _ Silence! _ ”

Before Anacharsis could even blink, there was a knife in Syn’s hand. A small, thin blade that could be easily concealed. She grabbed the groveling boy by his face and, with smooth and efficient movements, slashed the knife over their eye in the rough shape of an  _ X _ . The servant let out a wail, crying and struggling to pull away from the pain.

She wiped the knife clean, concealing it as before. And then, to Anacharsis’s horror and everyone else’s boredom, Syn drove her bare fingers into the servant’s eye socket.

For a moment, all he could do was watch in abject horror. But then a voice in his head begged for him to do something as the boy shrieked and twitched. He was a doctor, wasn’t he?

His mother and father would never let something like this go unchallenged.

“N-No, stop-!” Anacharsis jumped to his feet quickly, his chair falling backwards and clattering to the floor.

“Why are you so concerned?” Kronya asked, unaffected by the grisly display in front of her, “He should’ve been more careful.”

“It’s wrong!” Anacharsis cried, stepping to move towards the platform.

A small hand grabbed his sleeve, and he turned to see Pittacus holding his arm with a warning look.

“Leave it,” She stated, “Or your going to get yourself into trouble. Besides, he’s a servant. He doesn’t have a Crest, so he’s replaceable.”

Anacharsis stared at the girl, anger bubbling in his blood as he yanked his arm away and hoisted himself onto the platform and to the servant, who was now on their side pressing a trembling hand to their empty socket.

“Sit back down, Anacharsis,” Thales warned, unphased by what had just happened, “You don’t need to be bothered with someone like that.”

The doctor ignored him, ripping off part of the embroidered sash and pressing it to the servant’s face. The boy let out a whimper and sob, blood soaking the fabric almost immediately.

“Anacharsis!” Thales stood up, anger prevalent in his face.

The doctor turned to the gremory, “You didn’t need to do that!”

Syn looked offended by his statement, and in one hand she still held the eye trailing a bloody root, “This filthy little rat assaulted me!”

“It was an accident!” Anacharsis argued, his shoulders shaking while his hands remained steady. Where was this courage coming from anyway?

The gremory’s cheeks flared with rage, “Do I need to do the same to you too, little mouse?”

The doctor felt his heart pounding in his chest, frantic and scared that the same fate was about to fall upon him. He didn’t have a weapon to fight back with, and if he laid a hand on Syn he was positive that Thales would sentence him to death by the Scylla.

But before the gremory could take a step forward, Chilon stood up, “Now, now, let’s not ruin a perfectly good party.”

Anacharsis stared up at the man, eyes wide with shock as the red-haired warrior turned to Syn with a smile.

“If the boy wants to play doctor with this one, then there’s no harm in it. You had your fun, didn’t you?”

Syn scowled, tossing the eye aside and regaining her composure, “I suppose so. I just can’t stand playing the role of a good and kind saint for too long.”

Thales stood as well, his gaze set on Anacharsis with anger. But then Chilon turned the smile towards the Agastya.

“Come now, old friend, let us return to our drinking feasting. What’s one little servant? It doesn’t need to get more unpleasant. We’re here to celebrate, aren’t we?”

The Agastya was quiet, considering the suggestion. The room was so silent that a pin could’ve been dropped and everyone could hear it as they waited for his conclusion.

“Very well,” Thales reclaimed his seat, “Do what you will, Anacharsis.”

With that said, everyone went back to their drinking and eating as if nothing had happened. Syn took her seat, delicately wiping her blood-stained hands on a handkerchief while Anacharsis desperately pressed more of his sash to the servant’s bleeding eye socket.

Periander leaped over the side of the platform swiftly, scooping up the servant in his arms and looking to Anacharsis for instructions as he frantically recalled what little training he had.

“Come on, I need somewhere with water and clean towels.” He ordered, his voice not really sounding much like himself and more like how his father likely would’ve commanded soldiers back in the war between Brigid and Dagda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HappyBirddi: Thank you for reading this chapter! We wanted to establish some more world-building for the Agarthans and their culture for GS, so this one ended up being a bit longer than the usual chapter.
> 
> Happy one year anniversary to GS as well! It was a few days ago, but life happened and we missed posting something on that day :"^)
> 
> Thank you all for your love and support, as we wouldn't be able to post this without it. We will see you all soon with a new chapter soon! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Here's our Discord! Join us to send memes, talk about Fire Emblem: Three Houses, and share your stories with us! :>  
https://discord.gg/ghnz45Y


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